New Marvel: Force
by CDrake
Summary: In a rougher part of the Manhattan area, a freshman high schooler discovers that he is different from everyone around him. In a United States whose hatred and fear of mutants is great enough to enable the founding of the Mutant Response Division, an organization meant to hunt down and capture or kill all mutants, this could be either the best or worst time of his life.
1. Issue I: Origins

AN: Due to a particularly vicious streak of writer's block and the _appalling _amount of stylistic and grammatical errors in my first work, I decided to go through this story and update..._everything_. Enjoy.

\- CDrake

* * *

2 years after the Battle of New York

"Psst," came a harsh whisper. "Hey. Hey Jim. Jimmy. Come on, give me something to work with."

"Do your own work for once, and you might have something to work with."

James Carter kept on typing, not saying a word, despite the incessant requests by his slacker classmates for help on their computer science tests. His fingers moved at a feverish pace, his breathing barely elevated and belying the incessant _ thump-thump_ of his inner turmoil. He was just as stressed and worn-out as the rest. _The only difference is that I have a clue,_ he thought. Barely two minutes before the end-of-day bell rang at Brooklyn Technical, his last keystroke sounded—the "enter" key to send his final project to the teacher's inbox. James closed down his computer and thanked the teacher quietly, completely at rest and satisfied as he strode out of the school toward his bus.

As always, the 14-year-old, five-eleven freshman took a ten-minute nap on the ride home. He was jolted awake and aware of something wrong when he opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of smoke from the direction of the bus's usual route. Jim sat up groggily and took a closer look. _Wait. Is that—?_ The bus rounded the corner to his apartment building. _No...no way. _His legs went up straight, and he went straight for the emergency exit before his bus stopped or driver could stop him. He hit the ground rolling, his limited Parkour training kicking in and protecting him from the worst of the impact so he could get up running.

A fire truck was already on the scene, trying desperately to put out the inferno-laced building that had once been his home. Jim could already see they wouldn't make it to his floor in time. _And since their car is still parked…_ The teenage boy sprinted toward a side entrance not yet engulfed in flame, running up the stairwell before the attending firefighters could stop him. He reached the sixth floor, his floor, three seconds before the rest of the stairs collapsed. James made his way down the fire-strewn hallways, dodging around debris and falling drywall until he got to his apartment's door. The door refused to budge, even though the knob was turning, and he withdrew his hand a second after trying to get it open, as the knob was hot from what was on the other side.

"Mom!" he screamed, panic suddenly settling in as he began to suspect the worst. "Dad!"

"James!" a female voice shouted from the other side. "Sweetie, you're all right!"

"Yeah, I'm fine, but—" he looked around panickedly, trying to find something heavy to break the door open. "—why can't I get the door open?!"

"It's blocked with lit debris, son!" his father responded, his tone resigned. "So's the way to the fire escape. Get out of here, James, let the firefighters do their jobs!"

"No! Not a chance!"

"James, please!" his mother screamed.

"There is _no way_ I am leaving you here!"

"Son, for God's sake, go!"

Fear and frustration rose in Jim's gut as all the worst possibilities rushed through his mind at once. His teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut in impotent rage—or _was_ it impotent at all?

"Guys—" James started quietly, feeling another, strange yet not unfamiliar feeling rising within him, focusing itself in his eyes.

"Back the hell up!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, waiting a few more seconds before opening his eyes. Two bright blue beams of pure kinetic energy lunged from his eyes, punching through the door and debris behind it, creating a narrow doorway for his trapped parents. "Come on!" His mother came through first, Jim taking her hand, his eyes closed, his father pushing her from behind, both of them coughing from the smoke and staring at him in disbelief. As James' strange feeling faded, his eyes opened, and the family raced for the nearest window, Jim remembering that the fire truck was on that side of the building. His father took a fire extinguisher and broke the window open, dousing the nearest flames in an attempt to buy more time as James signaled the fire truck to get their ladder to them.

The ladder rose with a firefighter at the top, barely making the distance to the sixth floor.

"Her first," James said, moving his mother June toward the window.

The man took her onto the platform at the top of the ladder, and Jim took the extinguisher from his father Ray, pushing him toward the ladder and taking over six feet from the window. As Ray's feet hit the deck of the platform, the ceiling between James and the window collapsed, blocking his way with flaming rubble.

"Jim!" his mother shrieked, their roles now reversed.

"Go!" he responded. "I'll find another way out!"

James left before they could argue, sprinting for the nearest operational stairwell to get one floor up, trying to reach the fire escape before the fire spread. The seventh floor was mostly intact, allowing him to reach the outside stairs with little difficulty. The structure itself was faulty, though, rusted on the third level at a critical joint. The heat from the fire was exacerbating the problem, and James didn't notice until he descended to the second floor, when everything above him gave way, a portion of the structure pinning but not crushing him. Panic and frustration again set in as he used all of his wiry strength to try and lift the debris, but although not all the escape's weight was being leveled against him, it pushed him back down every time he tried to rise.

That feeling started again, and before he knew it, the beams emerged again, blowing the debris off and into the air. _Oh crap._ James barely had time to register the fact that what was left of the fire escape would fall back down and crush him before he leapt over the rail, falling the last 14 feet to roll on the hard pavement, cushioning his fall just enough not to break anything and saving him from a horrible death under almost half a ton of corroded steel. _That's gonna bruise_—_but at least I'm not dead._ James rose shakily and went to the front side of the building, spotting his horror-struck parents a second before calling to them. A look of immense relief took over both their faces as they took their son into their arms, holding him close as the feeling of crisis began to fade.

A half hour passed as the fire was eventually put out. Replacing what had been lost would take hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars, but they didn't care. All that mattered to the Carters was that every member of their family was safe and out of harm's way. But they were wrong. One person among them was still in danger. About half past 3, a truck bearing the three-letter acronym of the Mutant Response Division pulled into the crowded parking lot and two men stepped out of the back. After talking with several bystanders for a few moments, one or two of them surreptitiously pointing in Jim's direction every so often, the officers nodded their helmeted heads and walked over to the Carters.

"Excuse me, ma'am, sir," the front man said. "We'd like to have a word with your son, if you don't mind."

Sudden fear gripped both parents as they looked at each other, knowing exactly what they were there to do.

"Actually, officer," Ray said, "I _do_ mind. My son has just been through a traumatic experience, and what he needs right now is rest, not an interrogation."

"Sir, I'm afraid it wasn't a request, and if he resists us, we _will_ be forced to arrest him."

A look of outrage seized Ray's face as he prepared to defend his son. One of them lowered his hand to his sidearm, and they stared at one another for a second, tensions suddenly at a fever pitch. _No,_ was the message conveyed by James's silent hand on his father's shoulder. That and his resigned expression told Ray and the officers everything they needed to know. He would go quietly-for now. One of them took Jim's arm roughly.

"Come with us, kid."

"Easy, boyo," James said, giving the MRD officer a slight snarl, prompting him to tighten his grip. The boy clenched his teeth. _Just bite your tongue, Jim. Bite your tongue and bide your time._

They marched him to the back of the truck and opened the double doors, nudging him toward the steel chair in the center of the vehicle's holding cell.

"You're kidding, right?"

One of them pushed him inside, causing him to land face-first on the cold metal floor of the cell as the other climbed in and hoisted him upright, pushing him into the chair. Jim's hands were shackled to the chair's arms, and each guard took a standing position on either side of his front after closing the doors.

He looked from one man to the next as they whispered to each other, one of them walking behind him to bang on the wall between the cell and the driver, then returning to his spot and holding onto the subway-style handhold in the ceiling. _They're obviously waiting for the driver to take off. If I'm gonna get out of here, I've gotta make my break now._ He tested his bonds for a few seconds, but there was no chance of breaking them. _These cuffs are made of single-piece steel, with no defects and no weld joints. In other words, they were thorough in making sure there were no structural defects in these things._

Fear set in as his predicament struck home, and he realized he was about to become one of the many victims of the so-called "Mutant Response Division". _More like "Human Animal Control"._ Anger rose within him, and he gave everything he had to cultivate that feeling from before.

"By now you've gotta realize that you're not going anywhere, mutie. Anywhere except behind bars, or maybe a cell a little smaller and less comfortable."

James looked at the man who said it and found only a sadistic, hateful smile visible in the lower part of his face, the only part of his head not covered by a helmet.

"You people _do_ realize that A: I'm a minor, and B: this is a _gigantic_ violation of my constitutional rights, don't you?"

The officers looked at each other and chuckled for a few seconds before one of them suddenly stopped and whispered something to the other, a question that James barely managed to overhear.

"Shouldn't we have started moving by now?"

The other man didn't get the chance to respond, as he was crying out at the sudden pain in his dislocated knee, James's leg snapping back from the well-placed kick he had given the guard. The shrieking man's comrade drew his sidearm, but never got the chance to use it, as a yell left James's body along with two beams of kinetic energy. The guard was thrown hard against the wall of the cell, instantly knocked unconscious. Jim looked down at his cuffs and delivered two more concentrated blasts to them, breaking the dense steel like a twig and rising, rubbing his wrists before kicking the pained man unconscious.

He could hear commotion from the outside and figured their comrades heard the scuffle inside. _Gotta move quick._ James looked at the door and pulled at the release, noticing it was locked from the inside when it refused to budge. _No time to look for the key._ He blasted the seam where the two doors met and saw them start to give way. Jim drew on his emotions again, releasing a more powerful stream that slammed the double doors open and gave him a clear escape. The kid sprinted out the door toward a nearby alley when he heard an unfamiliar female voice shout from behind him.

"Hey, wait!"

Jim turned toward the source and fired on instinct, his gut telling him to do nothing but fight or die.

"Jeanie, look out!" A short, black-clad man threw himself between the beam and the woman, who was floating eight feet in the air. The man was tossed ten feet back into the side of the truck. _Oh man. I hadn't meant to shoot him _that_ hard._ James turned and ran again, but only made it three more steps before he heard that female voice again, only this time it sounded different, almost-resonating.

_"James, stop!"_

The kid stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face the red-haired woman, first noticing she was airborne. His eyes went wide.

_"It's all right,"_ she said without moving her lips.

"Who-what-" he stuttered, looking at the man by the truck, who was slowly picking himself up. James's eyes went wider. "Who are you people?"

"We're the X-Men. Mutants-just like you. We're here to help."

Jim looked between them, absolutely stunned.

"I—I thought the X-Men were just a rumor. An urban legend."

"Naw kid," the short, bearded man said. "We're as real as you are. Now if you're done gawkin', can we pick this up before—?"

Jim's eyes darted behind him, and his face showed alarm.

"Look out!" the kid screamed, diving to his right as the woman dashed sideways midair and the man handsprung backwards, barely dodging the salvo of 9mm bullets directed his way by two MRD officers using the truck's front for cover. Jim ran for cover behind a nearby dumpster, and the man in black leapt toward the truck's back, boosting himself atop it in one fluid motion and running for the front. The boy looked in amazement as the woman lifted her hands and disarmed the officers before the other X-Man leapt toward the two men, delivering a double punch to their helmeted heads. They both fell to the ground unconscious.

_Incredible. The X-Men are real._ Three more officers ran at the X-Men from the main street just 20 feet off, and James suddenly had the urge to help. _These people are outnumbered and risking their lives trying to save me, a stranger._ His eyes narrowed, and he let loose a stream of energy from his eyes, looking from one guard to the next, catching two of them and knocking them aside before the third returned fire, forcing him to close his eyes and duck behind the dumpster.

A feral roar came from the other side of his cover, and he peeked around the edge to see the short man charge straight at the surprised officer, leaping to his left and spinning midair to avoid an incoming bullet, then clenching his fists and releasing three metal, knife-like appendages from each of his hands. He slashed his left hand diagonally upward, cutting the barrel of the officer's submachine gun off between his hands, then delivering a right roundhouse kick to his lower ribs. Even from that distance, James heard the snapping of bones as his eyes widened. _Just how hard can this guy hit?_

The chop-chop of helicopter blades was heard overhead, and James realized that those officers were just the first backup. _There's really no way I get out of here, is there?_ His heart sank until he saw the woman again, standing on the now-heavily dented MRD truck, lifting her hands and grabbing the helicopter with her mind. The ends of the blades bent upward, causing the flight pattern of the aircraft to become erratic. He thought it was going to crash until it suddenly stabilized and landed softly on a two-story building nearby. _She just_—_woah._

"So—"

James yelped and jumped at the sudden close proximity of the short man's voice, turning to face him.

"Like I said, can we hurry this up before more Marties show up?"

James looked at him, confused. "What? Hurry what up?"

The man rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Your rescue, bub. C'mon, do I have to spell _everything_ out for ya?"

"You mean-you're taking me away from here? From my parents?"

"Uh...yeah, that's the idea."

Jim's face hardened and he shook his head emphatically, running toward his apartment building, toward his family.

"Kid, wait!"

_No, no, no. I am not leaving them for those freaking a-holes to arrest and interrogate. If that's the price of my freedom, I won't pay it._

"Mom! Dad!" He rushed into the arms of his relieved parents and held them both tightly, not intending to let go under any circumstances.

The red-haired woman touched down six feet from them and spoke softly to his parents.

"Listen...Mr. and Mrs. Carter...your son...he's a—"

"A mutant," Ray interrupted, nodding. "We know. We know now."

"Jeanie" pursed her lips. "Then you also know he won't be safe here with you, not with the MRD looking for him."

They both nodded, leaving James puzzled. Were they _trying_ to get rid of him? Were they afraid of him too?

"We can help him, keep him safe, train him to control his powers, to use them responsibly."

"Guys," Jim said pleadingly, "tell me you're not listening to this." One look at both their faces, and he knew they were. "No—" His voice cracked, and he held them both closer. "Please." He sobbed. "I don't want to go, I'm not ready…" They both held him tenderly, his mother speaking to him soothingly, trying to get him to let go. "Please...don't do this."

"We don't want to, son," Ray said, "but...they're right. These people, the X-Men...they can help you. And the MRD will never stop harassing us until they either take you or realize you're not with us anymore."

He looked at them both intensely.

"He's right, kid," the short man said. "Trust me, the Marties'll lose interest in your folks as soon as they realize they don't know anything about where you are."

James looked at each of them, the X-Men to his parents, and realized they were all trying to do what was best for him. "Damn it," Jim whispered, his head bowed, fist clenched in resigned frustration. "Okay," he said, looking up, his eyes red. "Just...give me a second. I love you guys." The frightened mutant gave his parents one last embrace before going with the two X-Men, who flanked him in a protective formation and escorted him off the streets to their parked X-Van, driving away incognito as the next wave of MRD reinforcements arrived at the site of the small battle. "Where are you taking me?"

"To the Xavier Institute," the woman responded from the rear passenger seat to Jim's right. "It's a school for young mutants like yourself who need a safe place to stay. I'm Jean. Jean Grey," she said, offering her hand.

He took it gently, still emotionally numb from the separation.

Jean pointed to the driver. "He's Logan, also called Wolverine."

Jim looked at Logan's hands. _I think I know why._

"How—how many more of you are there? At the Institute, I mean."

"X-Men or mutants?"

"I don't know...both?"

Jean smiled softly. "Well, the students are too numerous for me to give you a number off-hand, but there are about twelve other X-Men there right now. The rest are either visiting their homes or on missions."

"Missions...to save other mutants, like me?"

"Some. The rest have other priorities."

Jim looked away and drew in and released a long breath as he stared listlessly out the window.

"It'll be a fairly long drive to the Institute, James. You should get some rest in the meantime."

He nodded blankly and closed his eyes, letting the hum of the van's powerful engine lull him into a gentle nap. He woke some time later when Jean gently shook him awake.

"We're here."

He nodded groggily and sat up, noticing for the first time that he still had his school backpack on.

The sun had taken on a gentler, orange light, indicating that it was getting close to sunset, but there was still enough light for children to be playing outside. James rose from his seat and stepped out the door of the van, closing it behind him as he turned toward the main courtyard inside the Institute's gates. Logan drove the van away while Jean took his arm and guided him toward the fountain in the middle of the outdoor sanctuary. Around the courtyard was a basketball court, a long, rectangular pond, and arcs of trees leading into a large garden.

"Stay here for a bit while I go talk to Professor Xavier. I'll find out where you'll be staying."

James nodded his thanks, giving her a small, sad smile, the first he'd shown since last seeing his parents. Jean quickly walked away toward one of the mansion's shorter buildings, evidently the administrative hub. James looked around him, observed the children in the basketball court for a minute, saw one of them flash brightly, disappear, then reappear a second later in the path of the ball he'd thrown, catching it. He smiled despite himself, and turned toward the fountain, walking within five feet of it before catching sight of a nearby bench and the back of a white-clad woman sitting on it, reading intently. As he walked to her right side, he saw her smooth back her long blonde hair, then turn a page and keep reading. Standing in front of her rather awkwardly, Jim gulped and did the only thing that made sense to do.

"Hello," he said quietly, so quietly that he didn't think she'd heard him until she looked up at him and just smiled at him. Smiled in the kind of way that instantly calmed his tumultuous mind and let him know everything was going to be all right.

She stood up gracefully and said, "Hello there," in a thick British accent, holding out her deceptively delicate right hand.

He shook it like it was an egg as a result, and learned it wasn't, as her diamond-hard grip showed him. _Woah._

"Emma Frost. I'm an instructor here at the Institute."

He stared at her, blinking a few times, gaping slightly. "James Carter. I'm...new."

The pale, smooth-skinned woman smiled at him again. "I figured as much, from your...disoriented expression." She released his hand, which instantly went to his pocket along with his left.

"So...what do you teach here?"

"A variety of courses, actually, ranging from English composition to European literature. Besides the normal academics, I also teach students to master their respective abilities, like all senior instructors."

"So, you're an X-Man-uh, woman? Uh…"

"X-Woman is fine," she said, noticing the deep shade of red he was turning. Emma's gentle smile never left her face, which left James feeling even more embarassed until…

"Jim!"

He turned toward the voice, relief flooding his features.

"Found you a room."

"Jean," Emma said pleasantly. "I see you're taking good care of this fine young man."

"Someone has to handle all the paperwork." She turned to James and laid her hand on his arm, whose hand was still in his pocket. "You'll be staying in the Freshman Quad, about three buildings down from here. I'll show you." She nodded in a general direction and tugged at his arm gently.

"Okay," he said, nodding slightly, turning back to Emma. "So I'll...see you around?"

"Of course," she responded. "In fact, I prefer to teach high school, so we might even have a class together." Jim smiled at that, drawn to the woman in a way he couldn't yet explain. "Goodbye for now, and...welcome to the Xavier Institute."

"Thank you."

James walked away with Jean, entering the dormitory with her and climbing a floor to end at his room, the last on the right. She unlocked the door with a key that she then gave to him.

"For the next four years and as long as you want afterward…" she opened the door, turning on the lights, "this is your home." His eyebrows shot upward, and he laid down his backpack gently, right next to the bed.

"Jean...how can I ever thank you? You, Logan, this...Professor Xavier?" He looked at her sideways. "What you've done for me...it's more than I could have asked for. More than I can ever repay."

"That's why this school is here," she said with a smile. "_This_ is all we want." She stepped toward his window, drawing the blinds and spreading her arms.

James looked and saw the dozens of mutant children in the courtyard and around, playing, safe. Safe from an angry, hostile world. Safe to be kids. To just _be_.

Jean stared at his openmouthed expression for a few moments. "You understand?"

He nodded slowly, smiling.

"Take as much time as you need to get settled in. Dinner's at 7:30 in the main building. If you need help finding it, either consult the map on your dresser or ask one of the students. There's always someone late for dinner in every quad."

"Thank you."

She smiled and left him to his reverie.

Maybe he'd been wrong in dismissing the place offhand. Even if they _had_ kind of forced him into it, they seemed…nice, which was more than he could say for those two jackasses who tried to arrest him, or the teachers who complained about the way he looked at them when given a particularly annoying assignment, or…anyone, really. James smiled as he reflected on the circumstances of the offer._ Maybe this Xavier guy _can_ make things better here. Protect me. Teach me._ He was going to grant them a shot, at least. For saving his life, he owed them at least that much. And if he stayed there, for however long, there had to be one condition: he was going to be like Jean and Logan._ Like Emma. I want to be for someone else what they were for me. Whatever it takes...I'm going to become an X-Man._


	2. Issue II: Training

Maybe he'd been wrong in dismissing the place offhand. Even if they _had_ kind of forced him into it, they seemed…nice, which was more than he could say for those two jackasses who tried to arrest him, or the teachers who complained about the way he looked at them when given a particularly annoying assignment, or…anyone, really. James smiled as he reflected on the circumstances of the offer._ Maybe this Xavier guy _can_ make things better here. Protect me. Teach me._ He was going to grant them a shot, at least. For saving his life, he owed them at least that much. And if he stayed there, for however long, there had to be one condition: he was going to be like Jean and Logan._ Like Emma. I want to be for someone else what they were for me. Whatever it takes...I'm going to become an X-Man._

...

Six months later

2 years, 6 months after the Battle of New York

"Watch your six! C'mon, kid, check your corners before you rush ahead! It's like you're not even tryin'!"

James grit his teeth and clenched his fists as he leapt backward, narrowly avoiding the falling pole that almost pinned him to the ground.

"What're you standin' there for? Move!"

He sprinted at top speed toward the far side of the room, falling into a slide to avoid a horizontal swipe at his chest by a nearby robot, then rolling forward as he lost momentum, using that inertia to keep running.

"Almost there, kid. Don't let up!"

James leapt over an eight-foot chasm, easily clearing the distance, triumph ringing in his blood until the ground began to give way. Acting on instinct, he jumped away from the strongest rumbles and tried to keep running, but the uneven rocky ground combined with its new instability caused him to stumble. _No, no, no, not again._ James fell forward, rolling painfully on the hard, uneven rocks and trying to keep going, but he found it impossible apart from crawling. So he did, as quickly as he could on all fours, like he was taught in Parkour over a year ago, and made relatively good time until he got shot in the back with an electro dart.

_Dammit!_

"Course failed," a computerized voice said, "would you like to try again?"

"No," Jim groaned almost inaudibly, face-down on the now-normal chrome floor of the Danger Room. _I never want to run this course again._ He pushed himself up, rising to his feet painfully. _And I swear, if Logan tells me to "get sorted out and get back in there" one more time…_

"All right, kid. Get yourself sorted and get back in there."

Jim rolled his eyes heavily, facing away from Wolverine until he was done giving attitude, then turning toward him and walking out of the round, metal chamber. The now-fifteen-year-old strode to the nearest elevator, keying his way to the ground floor. The bright, metallic sub-basement of the X-Mansion gave way to the dark, deep mahoganies and cherry wood of the main buildings of the Institute. When he looked out the nearest window, he panickedly glanced at his watch. _Oh crap, I'm late!_ Jim sprinted down the halls, dodging his way around students and furniture desperately trying to reach his destination.

"Woah, look out, people, coming through!" He leapt over a table rather than slam into a deadlocked stream of students, vaulting over it seamlessly as he kept his momentum. _Oh, I am so dead…_ Jim slammed through a door at the end of a long hallway in the administrative building, quickly closing it behind him and fast-walking through another doorway into another room, where three other students were already in intense conversation. "Hey, uh, sorry I'm late. Kind of got held up in the Danger Room."

"Same course?" one of them asked. James nodded mournfully. They all shook their heads. "Don't sweat it, man. That one's Logan's favorite self-esteem crusher, so it'll only take you a couple hundred more times to complete it."

Jim's eyes went wide with disbelief. "_That's_ your idea of encouragement, Bobby?"

They all laughed, one of them walking over and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Seriously, don't sweat it," she said, "he's not that far off about how difficult it is. You're not meant to win until you've gotten really, really good."

_And how long is that gonna take?_

"Come on, we're in the middle of reviewing for that big physics test tomorrow.

"Don't think that's gonna help much, considering I'm taking chemistry." Jim exhaled heavily, his thoughts turning gloomy. Six months ago,he'd told himself he'd be an X-Man one day._ Turns out that might be one day a decade from now._ "Hey, I'm gonna...go see Emma. You guys don't really need me here."

A universal groan came from all three of them.

"Come on, Jim, we're not _that _bad of company, are we?" the third student asked.

He arched an eyebrow at her and rolled his eyes. "'Course not, Kitty, but there's no reason for me to stay here if I'm not reviewing something that'll actually help me, so…"

She shrugged in acknowledgement of his logic. "I'll walk you out, then," she said, taking his arm and pulling him gently toward the nearest wall.

"Oh no, wait, wait, wait!"

_Oh, I hate it every time she does this…_ The girl phased them both through the wall into the main hallway and gave him a customary hug before passing back through and rejoining the study group. _I swear, she does it just to see me squirm._ Jim just shook his head.

_"Come on, kid," _Logan had said two days before on his second time failing the same solo course. _"I'm startin' to think you can't do anything by yourself, always need your team to back ya up."_

Jim grit his teeth, slackening his jaw when he realized his instructor might be right. He walked out of the building into the main courtyard, fully expecting Emma to be, as was customary, intently reading on a nearby bench. He was right.

"Hey!" he shouted with a wave and a smile.

She waved back and motioned him over.

"Hello, James," she said, standing and hugging him briefly, her book closed and tucked against her side. "Productive day with Logan?" His expression told her everything. "I see. Is that why you came to see me?"

He cocked his head slightly. "Partly. Can we walk?"

She nodded and followed him into the mansion's garden.

James collected his thoughts as they walked between two evergreens into a row of birches. "You know I want to be an X-Man, to be the kind of person who can be there for someone else like the X-Men were for me, human _or_ mutant."

She nodded.

"Well, I mean...you were _already_ good when you came to the Institute, so...I guess you can't really tell me much about your training, but...I don't know. I guess I'm just rethinking just how much I want this, and why."

Emma smiled. "It's perfectly natural for someone like you, a rational, analytical person, to consider and reconsider his priorities and motives. Rest assured that no one here doubts your sincerity or conviction. Even if Logan and Scott don't out and say it, they see a great potential in you, like I do, and not just with regards to your powers. That potential—" she tapped his chest, "—just needs to be tapped."

He nodded. "How though? I feel like I keep ramming my head against a brick wall, and not just with _that course_. With training, with school, with my friends even. I feel like I'm trying different things with the same result every single time: substandard."

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "If you really believe that, then you need a good look at how you were when you got here." She hesitated a moment, pursing her lips slightly before continuing. "May I show you something," she asked, raising her hand to his temple lightly.

He nodded in response, and she closed her eyes, focusing her telepathy on his memories from a time briefly after his arrival.

...

Six months ago

"James. James, are you paying attention?"

The fourteen-year-old snapped out of his daydream to look at the teacher, a white-haired woman with dark skin and eyes. "Yes, sorry," he responded. "I'm all good, Ms. Munroe." She narrowed her eyes slightly and gave him a look that told him she didn't believe for a second that he was "all good." He exhaled heavily as the lesson on weather patterns and cycles continued, jotting down the occasional note he didn't think was self-explanatory enough to commit to memory. The teen was grateful when the end-of-day bell let them out, and walked sullenly back to his dorm.

"Hey, Jim!"

_Oh no. Not again._

"Hey! Wassup, brother?"

James turned toward the source belatedly, arching his eyebrows.

"Hey Evan. What's up?"

"Not much, not much. Hey, me and a couple others are gonna go skateboarding near the pond, wanna come?"

"I'm not much of a skater, Ev. Two left feet in that regard, you might say."

The other kid shook his head. "You don't have to skate, just watch if you like. Bobby's gonna freeze the pool, so that'll add some extra challenge to the experience."

Jim considered it for a second before dismissing the offer. "I'm kinda beat, man. Maybe another time." Even without paying attention, he could tell Spyke was disappointed.

"Oh...okay then. Another time. See ya." The darker teen skateboarded away, narrowly avoiding a crash with a much larger student.

_Peter, everyone calls him, but the roster on the class I have with him says "Piotr." Must be a foreign thing._ James strode through the student-thick halls aimlessly, barely noticing the considerable weight of his book-filled backpack.

"Hey Jimmy," a female, southern voice said, snapping him out of his aimless reverie.

"Hey Rogue."

She looked at him with a concerned frown. "Somethin' wrong, darlin'?"

"Uhh...you might say that." It always unnerved him whenever she talked like was only a year older than him, and yet it made her sound like she was his aunt. She raised her eyebrows at him, asking for an explanation. He shrugged, keeping his shoulders up. "I...have no idea where to go now, or what to do, or...anything."

She smiled at him knowingly. "Yeah, I had the same problem my first year here. Didn't know anybody, didn't much care. The whole 'no contact' thing kinda had me scared to be around other people."

"Right. So what changed that?"

She cocked her head and looked up thoughtfully. "A few things. Logan among them. He's always been somethin' like family to me. That and becomin' an X-Woman."

Jim gave her a rueful smile and sighed. "That's…the main reason I stayed, actually. How does one go about becoming an X-Man, though?"

She shook her head. "Not very complicated, sugar. You keep your grades up, develop a good relationship with your teachers, and show them you're ready for training."

"So, basically all I have to do is pay attention in school and smile more."

"Not if it isn't genuine, and trust me, they can tell. Just...be yourself. Trust me, the kind of person you are inside is one that everyone who knows you wants to meet, myself included."

"How do you know?"

"Because I see the look in your eyes every time you see someone in need, like you're just achin' to help. You just need to show _them_." She motioned toward a trio of teachers-Jean, Scott, and Hank.

He nodded slowly, looking in their direction and smiling confidently. "Got it."

...

Four months ago

_I actually think that went pretty well,_ Jim thought as he toweled off from the lengthy training session that left most of the others breathing heavily. He had just turned fifteen, and been inducted into Logan and Scott's daily training sessions along with about a dozen others. James had quickly teamed up with Amara Aquilla, Bobby Drake, and Kitty Pryde; finding them his best fit in training. Bobby, of course, didn't sweat, being Iceman and all. Neither did Amara, since heat was kind of her thing. After the session was over, James headed outside to the courtyard fountain, finding that, his first landmark coming to the Institute, one of the only places he could stay and meditate peacefully.

As he sat on the same bench he'd seen Emma on just two months previous, he closed his eyes, breathing in the crisp scent of Winter on the cool Fall air. _It's incredible how time flies here. _At least, it did now that he was working toward a higher purpose. Even Logan, who he quickly discovered to be a major hard-ass, admitted that he was making progress at leaps and bounds compared to some of the others._ If you keep this up, Jim, you might make X-Man by next Fall._ He smiled at the prospect.

"Enjoying the breeze before it becomes a gale?" a voice asked from his right.

"Yeah," James responded without opening his eyes. "This has to be the quietest spot on the whole campus, even if it _is _right next to, you know, everything. Everything the students here use, anyway."

"Yeah, you can thank the trees for _that_, I think. The way they're arranged in this courtyard keeps most high-frequency sound waves out, helps whoever's inside to concentrate. It's like a…harmonic cage."

James opened his eyes and looked for the source of the voice. He spotted a six-foot, dark brown-haired teen boy facing away from him seven feet away, thumbs hooked in his belt. He seemed to be studying the very phenomenon that he had just been describing, staring intently at the trees surrounding them. Then suddenly, as if he could feel Jim's eyes studying him, he turned around and looked him dead in the eye.

"Kal Sorenson," he said, extending his hand after walking within two feet of the slightly shorter boy.

Jim rose and took it. "James Carter. You new here?"

Kal cocked his head slightly. "Not exactly. I've been a student of the Professor for some time, I just haven't...lived here until now."

Jim nodded in understanding. "So what can _you_ do?"

"I'm a telepath," he shrugged. "Plain and simple."

Jim's eyebrows shot up and he smiled wryly. "Plain and simple? I don't think there's a mutant power that's less plain _or_ simple."

"Yeah," Kal said, scratching the back of his head, "you're right about _that _one. What about you?"

James exhaled slowly, chewing on his lip in thought. "Can't do it here. Come on." He waved his new friend to follow, and they made their way to a nearby cliff overlooking a water outlet. James tried to focus on his nonexistent frustration and fear in an attempt to trigger his powers when he remembered something the Professor had told him a few days previous.

_"I believe that true power comes not from anger or fear," _he had said, _"but another, truer, more constructive emotion. I once told a friend that the highest peak of power lies at the point between rage and serenity, a feeling or state of mind that I have yet to classify. Go to your memories. Find one that triggers this for you. When you can go to that place on instinct, without thinking, you will know how to fully control your powers."_

Jim closed his eyes, summoning the memory of the first time his powers had ever manifested. He had learned a long time ago living in a rougher part of the greater NYC region that if he didn't know how to defend himself, no one else would, so he became street smart and physically, as well as emotionally, tough. His most vulnerable times were when he was alone. The Friday before his apartment building went up in flames, he tangled with a longtime bully of his that he'd managed to keep at bay since 6th grade. That time around, the kid had had backup, three big idiot pranksters who were just mean and stupid enough to agree to the assault.

They had ambushed him as he was leaving class that day. He was with his longtime friend Kaley, who was shoved aside by the thugs' leader when the attack started. Jim used every tactic, technique, and dirty trick he knew, injuring two of the big ones and breaking the leader's nose before he was held down and beaten half unconscious. When Kaley stepped in, the leader backhanded her. At that moment, he hadn't just felt anger or hatred, but an indescribably mix of frustrated rage and fierce protectiveness. He had scowled at the leader and stared directly at him.

_"Leave—her—_alone_!"_ he had screamed, releasing his first dual jets of energy that catapulted his bitter rival into a nearby wall, instantly knocking him unconscious.

The others, surprised and frightened, released him and ran off screaming.

_"Are you okay?"_ he'd asked, holding out his hand.

She had nodded slowly and taken it. They both agreed to keep that event a secret, and even when he had gone home and his parents found him a bruised mess, he claimed he had fought them all off with his bare hands. Since he had spent most of his middle school career learninghow to fight, and fight to _win_, neither of them questioned it.

James found that feeling again, and knew he had succeeded. His eyes opened, and two lances of sapphire kinetic energy projected from them, parting the waters as his vision passed over them. He let the feeling ebb, and the beams stopped. When he turned toward his new friend, he saw Kal gaping and nodding his head, still staring at the aftereffects of his power.

"Incredible," he said, looking back to James's face. "So you're like Cyclops, except you can control your abilities."

"Well, that and it's triggered by emotion, not concentration, like his would be if he could control them."

"Bet that's pretty hard to do, considering emotional states are such unpredictable and volatile things."

James nodded ruefully. "Got that right, brother."

"Brother, huh?" Kal smiled. "I like the sound of that."

They shook hands and turned to watch the sun set.

...

One month ago

"Got him!"

James nodded in acknowledgement and kept running for the flag, a mere fifty meters away, when he saw Amara starting to have trouble. A metallic arm snagged her and dragged her toward a nearby lake, prompting him to alter his course and deliver a flying 360-roundhouse kick to the joint of its hand. As the arm let go, he took her hand and lifted her to her feet, pulling her toward their objective. They both ran at top speed as Kitty came out of the ground, Bobby's arm around her shoulders as they ran together toward the finish line.

"Go!" she yelled at them as James slowed his pace. He grit his teeth and obeyed.

He _hated_ leaving people behind, even if it _was _a fake battle. The duo leapt over a rapidly growing fissure, a gap that Kitty and Iceman couldn't clear by the time they caught up. He made an ice bridge covered in snow so they had at least some traction, but the distance increased so fast that they didn't make it. They fell together toward the cliff face, and Kitty phased them through, rising to surface level in a desperate attempt to catch up to the others. James was practically dragging the exhausted Amara to the flag when a twelve-foot robot attacked, forcing him to push her away from him to avoid both of them being hit.

He rolled as his shoulder hit the ground, grunting at the pain and focusing on his need to protect his team. The feeling came easier this time, the urgency and presence of battle giving him more emotional steam to work with. His beams blew the robot's left arm off at the joint, and he fired again, crippling its right leg. It raised its remaining arm and released a long, ductile appendage of the same make as the one he'd just crippled. _So that's what attacked her._ James leapt sideways, mirroring the move he'd seen Wolverine do to dodge bullets and sprinting past the crippled bot toward Amara.

She raised her right hand and blasted the metal guardian with a concentrated stream of flame, melting its head easily at Jim hoisted her upright. They both got within ten feet of the flag when James looked behind him, seeing Kitty and Iceman much further behind. He grit his teeth again, stopping five feet away. _I won't leave them, not when there's no reason to._

"Jim," Amara said panickedly, "what are you doing?"

"I won't leave them," he responded. "We're not in danger, and we don't leave teammates behind." Despite what he'd just said, James found himself scanning their surroundings for potential threats, spotting one just in time. "Down!" Two electric darts whistled through the air where they had just been, and when James looked for the source, he found another robot suspended by gyroscope on a rolling ball it used for propulsion. Its upper body was man-like, and it was rapid-firing electric darts from its arms. Jim cut loose, unleashing a steady stream of energy that all but incinerated the darts and blew half the robot apart.

_Come on, guys…_

"Here!" Kitty screamed from his right as she and Iceman finally arrived. Jim rose, half-carrying Amara to the flag as all of them raised it simultaneously.

They all smiled at hearing the Danger Room's metallic voice say the words, "Course completed."

"Top marks, team," Cyclops said over intercom. "You almost beat the high score for first-years."

"Which is cheating," Wolverine cut in, "considering you have not one, but _two_ full-fledged X-Men with ya."

"So?" James asked loudly, grinning. "Look where _they_ ended up." Jim and Amara laughed as Iceman and Kitty went beet red.

"Still an exemplary job," Scott announced. "We're having dinner early for you guys. Go on, you deserve it."

They all whooped and high-fived each other, James's stomach already aching in anticipation of their reward.

...

Present

Jim's eyes shot open and looked directly into Emma's.

"I know how to beat the course," he said.

She smiled. "I knew you would."

"Thanks Emma!" Jim yelled as he ran back into the building toward the elevator to the sub-basement. Sprinting down the halls, he came to a stop in front of Logan and Jean and breathed heavily for a few seconds, holding his finger up in front of him until he recovered. "I wanna go back in, but I need you to change one parameter." He took a few more deep breaths as they looked at each other, then back at him in question. "I need you to make the flag someone I need to save."

Wolverine's eyebrows shot up, and a knowing look passed over Jean's face as she realized his plan. "Done," he said.

Two minutes later, Jim was back in uniform at the starting line of the course. From the start, he could see an eight-year-old girl hunched over in a ball, shrieking in fear at the chaotic environment she was in. That alone was enough to drive the aches and fatigue out of his body as he fell forward at a sprint to get to her. Two paramilitary soldiers dove out of cover and fired electro darts at him. He leapt and twisted midair, the darts that came close ricocheting off his rapidly moving uniform. He punched one of them in passing and delivered a flying sidekick to the other, using his chest as a springboard in his mad dash to reach the girl.

Three ball-robots rolled into view and sprayed darts in his direction. He twisted behind a few scattered boulders for cover, weaving in and out to keep their firing angles limited. Glancing at the crying girl, he triggered his powers, bisecting one of the robots at the joint between its ball housing and upper body. Ducking under a fallen pillar, he dashed between the last two firing robots, causing them to shoot each other and short out long enough for him to get out of range. James's instincts took over completely as he avoided every obstacle, defeated every enemy, and made every hurdle until he came to the last stretch_—_the vibrating cliff.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed away his growing apprehension and made the leap, landing even further on the other side than before. When the ground began to shake and throw him off balance, he was already almost twenty feet from the cliff's edge. His disorientation gave way to the knowledge that there was another threat somewhere around here. His eyes fixed on the girl, now less than fifteen feet away, and snapped toward a glint at the corner of his vision, releasing his powers to blast the incoming dart and its sender to oblivion. James ran over to the girl and held her close.

"It's okay now," he said to the holographic projection. "You're safe with me."

They locked eyes for a second before the simulation ended and the computer declared he had passed. He smiled triumphantly and rose slowly, turning to face the now-open door and a gaping Wolverine. Jean was smiling behind him, her arms crossed.

"The problem wasn't that I couldn't do anything for myself," he said as he walked up to Logan. "I just needed a real reason to fight. A reason to win."

"I gotta say," the shorter instructor responded, crossing his arms smugly to save face, "I was startin' to have some doubts about you, kid. You might make a decent X-Man after all."

Jim half-smiled at him, and Jean laughed.

"And that's the closest thing to a compliment you'll hear from him," she said. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks. And now...I think I'm gonna go pass out."

"Good idea."

…

10 minutes later

As James fell back-first onto his bed, he smiled, the aches and pains in his body suddenly worth it as he finally realized the source of his strength. He'd finally found what the Professor couldn't classify._ Love. _His love for others, for people he didn't even know, his urge and determination to protect them_—_that's what gave him his power, literally and figuratively._ I have a feeling that's just the first of many things I'll be thanking you for, Emma._

As he drifted off to sleep, he was almost sure he could hear her voice whispering, _"You're welcome."_

...

Six months later

"Let me see it," Rogue said, smiling, as James smiled across from her smugly, outfitted in his brand new X-Men uniform.

He tossed her his watch, and she caught it, inspecting the light button and pressing it once, activating its secondary function: a multifrequency communicator to the rest of the team.

"Well it's about time, darlin'." She rose and approached him, hugging him as he stood.

"I quite agree," said Dr. McCoy. "Ever since he arrived, Mr. Carter has been giving his all to his training. I do believe your time in becoming an X-Man has almost broken a record."

"_Almost_," Wolverine said from the wall he was leaned against, grinning. "Ain't nobody breakin' _my_ record for a loooong time."

"Congratulations," all the X-Men present said in unison.

"You have grown quite a lot since you first came here, James," Professor X said. "When you arrived, you were fearful of your abilities, of the world outside these walls, of a life apart from your parents. Now you stand here resolute, sure of your path and place." He smiled in that familiar, fatherly way. "I could not be more proud."

"Thanks Professor," James responded, shaking his hand.

"Now," Cyclops said, interrupting, "this next part is important. Have you given any thought to your codename?"

"I have," the now six-foot teen replied. "What do you think of...Force?"

Everyone in the room thought about it, tasting how the word would feel to say in the middle of a battle. An almost universal, if staggered, nod came from the entire group.

Noticing this, Professor X spoke up. "Force it is then. Welcome to the X-Men."

From further back in the room, Emma smiled at her favorite pupil, a gesture he returned, saying so much in that simple look, from thanks without number to an acknowledgement of an almost motherly affection that had developed in the year they'd known each other. _I'm an X-Man now. With all the rights, privileges, and responsibilities therein. _It was everything he'd wanted since arriving and now it was his to have and live.

"I hope you guys don't mind me saying, but…" James looked at all of them, beaming. "This is the best day of my life."

They all cheered and clapped for their new member, taking turns shaking his hand and exchanging hugs as the formal proceedings ended. All the while, he was still thinking. _When I first came here, I _hated_ the idea of being away from my parents, away from family._ Emma's turn came to address her student as a fellow X-Man, and they embraced closely, like a mother and son. _Now I know I have a new one._


	3. Issue III: Control

They all cheered and clapped for their new member, taking turns shaking his hand and exchanging hugs as the formal proceedings ended. All the while, he was still thinking. _When I first came here, I _hated_ the idea of being away from my parents, away from family._ Emma's turn came to address her student as a fellow X-Man, and they embraced closely, like a mother and son. _Now I know I have a new one._

...

One month later

3 years, 1 month after the Battle of New York

"Hey," James whispered to his new roommate. "Hey, wake up."

"It's two in the morning!" he whispered back, turning to face him, the expression of furious exhaustion on his face hidden by the night shadows and James' closed eyelids.

"I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Then go," he responded blearily, rolling away from Jim as he tried to fall back to sleep.

"I can't. I need my glasses."

"So?"

"So I can't find them."

The roommate moaned in exhaustion, then stirred, resigned to helping him. In his mind, James Carter was an unnecessarily needy, sunglasses-obsessed, ill-picked companion who needed frequent trips to the bathroom and was utterly unable to sleep through the night.

"Okay, okay, what glasses?"

"Come on, the only ones I have."

He rolled his eyes. "Man, I don't even know you. We _just _met two days ago. How am I supposed to know what your stuff looks like?"

"If they were in the place they usually were, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Check on the floor near my nightstand."

He did so halfheartedly, finding nothing and wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. Groaning, he turned on Jim's lamp. "What kind of glasses are they?"

Jim didn't respond, he just curled up, his breathing quickening. _How hard is it to find a pair of glasses on a completely clear floor?_

"Come on, man, what kind?"

"The blue sapphire ones!" James yelled as he opened his eyes at a peak of agitation, releasing a stream of force that blew a hole through the window and a good portion of the wall above it, causing his roommate to drop flat and shriek in fright. Jim closed his eyes and squeezed them shut, grimacing and breathing heavily, curling up and whining quietly as the cold night air of the waning Winter was let in. "Are you okay?" Silence. "You okay?!" He felt his eyes stinging with tears. _Not again…_

"I'm—fine," the roommate responded, his voice indicating he was shaking in fear. "I found them."

James held out his hand, which he realized was shaking as well, and received his glasses a second later. "Thank you." The door to the hallway opened, and James opened his eyes behind the safety of his sapphire glasses, looking toward the open portal to see a blue-tinted Storm standing in the doorway. "Sorry about the mess." He saw several more students clustering behind Ororo. "And the noise." James rose slowly, his shoulders heavy with guilt and regret, striding toward the door.

"Another incident?"

He nodded.

She gave him a slight, supportive smile. "All right. Everyone else, go back to bed." Ororo took his arm gently, meaning to escort him, but he brushed her off in self-frustration.

"I'll be fine. Thanks." When he returned, she was still standing in the doorway with his roommate, who left and went down the hallway in the opposite direction as soon as he saw James.

"Come with me," she said, walking toward Jim.

He did, and followed her to another room, a single, with standard Institute amenities and no hole in the wall.

"Go ahead and lie down. We'll move your things while you sleep."

He nodded his thanks and collapsed face-first on his new bed. _I wonder if I'll ever be able to take these things off, or if I'll be stuck like this, seeing the world in blue like Cyclops sees it in red._ He groaned at the very real possibility. If the alternative was to hurt people indiscriminately, then he'd never take the damn things off. Eventually, he accepted the reality that sleeping face-down with glasses on is supremely uncomfortable and took them off, placing them on the nearest nightstand and laying his head down.

As he passed out, his mind drifted to the reason for his new fears.

...

One week ago

"First time in the field?" Colossus asked.

Force nodded, his calm and collected posture belying his extreme excitement and only maintained by the release of tension in the knitted hands in his lap. _First time as an X-Man. I still can't believe it._

"My first time out," Shadowcat said, "there was a gigantic tornado that we had to get right next to. We almost lost half the team."

Force's eyes went wide.

"My first time out," Iceman chimed in, "Magneto tried to raze half of San Francisco just to make a point. It took us two hours to take him down."

"My first time out," Wolverine said with an evil grin, "I got sat on by a two-ton behemoth called Blob. Didn't get dug out for a half hour, and it took almost ten minutes just to get all my joints straightened."

By this point, all traces of confidence and excitement had left Force, and it was all he could do not to shake in his seat.

"My first time out," Colossus said, riding the wave of stories to its conclusion, "we went to another dimension filled with fairies and pixie dust."

Force gave him a sideways double-take, face screaming confusion. And with that, the entire X-Jet, including the non-participating pilots, burst into laughter. The subject of their amusement rolled his eyes and laid his head back against the headrest.

"Apologies," the large nineteen-year-old said as he was laughing, "it's something of a tradition with rookies. If your training history is any indication, you'll do just fine."

"He's right," Cyclops chimed in. "We don't even expect much action on this ride. All we're doing is a grid search for a missing person."

"Missing person," Force said thoughtfully. "Mutant?"

"We don't know for sure. Cerebro couldn't pick him up as either mutant or human. It couldn't see him."

Force's eyebrows went up.

"How often does _that_ happen?"

"It doesn't."

"Description? Last sighting?"

"Twelve years old," Storm said from the copilot's seat, "about five-eight. Last seen somewhere in the lower Bronx. We think he had the ability to talk to machines, based on the way he's dodged police and the MRD until now."

"And it's a bit of a stretch," Cyclops added, "but that may be why Cerebro couldn't find him."

"Wait," Force said, "he's on bad terms with the cops too?"

Shadowcat spoke up. "He's a bit of a misfit, by all accounts. Done a few minor things, shoplifting and the like. Not a bad kid, just scared and a little misguided is all."

"And there are a lot of those in the world," Cyclops said from the front. "All we can do is help one of them at a time and hope that, at least to the people we save, it'll make a difference."

Force nodded. Two minutes later, the X-Jet touched down on the roof of an abandoned warehouse and cloaked as the eight X-Men filed off the exit ramp.

"All right," Cyclops began authoritatively, "we'll split into teams of two. Force, you'll go with Iceman. Shadowcat, you're with Wolverine. Storm, take Colossus. Magma, you're with me. Go to the four points of the compass. Search drains, alleys, and anything else that jumps out at you. If you spot people outside, ask if they've seen anyone like him."

They all nodded in acknowledgement and split off. A half hour passed without so much as a trace. When Wolverine's team came to a day-old sighting location, he picked up the kid's scent and began tracking it, following his movements over the last 24 hours to one inevitable conclusion, then called the rest of the search group.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Force said.

Wolvie shook his head. An almost universal sigh came from the whole group as they stared at the open manhole cover.

"Well," Cyclops said to interrupt their vocal griping, "nobody said being an X-Man was glamorous."

And with that, he descended the ladder first. When the whole team was down there, they divided the same way after Wolverine followed the scent as far as he could, the sewer's smell mucking up his enhanced senses too much after a certain point. Fifteen minutes passed as they swept every corner of the sewer system, Force's team finally finding a sign.

"Iceman to team."

"Go ahead," Cyclops responded over comm.

"I think we may have found the kid's backpack," Force continued, crouching over the torn remains of a canvas backpack about the size a twelve-year-old would carry. "And it looks like there's a slight blood trail here, leading further into the sewers. Based on the damage to the pack...it doesn't look good."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Cyclops cut in. "For all we know, he cut himself and his backpack on a damaged pipe. If he is injured, it's all the more critical we reach him quickly. We'll rendezvous at your location and have Wolverine follow the trail."

Another two minutes passed as the other X-Men caught up with Iceman and Force, Wolverine taking point and using the blood's scent to follow the kid's steps further, the smell of his blood more recent and identifiable.

"This trail definitely came from the same person," he said. "No one else I know smells like so much cheese nachos and pizza."

Force raised his eyebrows slightly. _Fair enough._ Another five minutes of walking led them to a water exchange pipe, essentially an underground crossroads. Wolverine went left, climbing over a rail to go down an elevated hallway. Another hundred meters through twist and turn, and he stopped, holding up his closed fist. The other X-Men followed his lead.

"There's trouble ahead, I'm sure of it. Lots of other strides out there besides us."

"How many more?" Cyclops asked almost indiscernibly.

"Hard to tell 'cause a all the echoes, but I think there are six other sets of steps." Wolverine tilted his head slightly to listen and sniffed a few times. "Only pickin' up three scents, but in this place, that ain't exactly surprising."

"They must be a good ways off. Colossus, form up behind Wolverine. If anything moves, get in its way."

Piotr nodded and shifted to his metal form, encasing himself in bulletproof, force-resistant organic osmium. _Not that Logan even needs the protection._ They proceeded cautiously, the scent of the boy's blood getting stronger as they went, as well as background noise that sounded vaguely like footsteps above the hum of nearby machinery. Force kept his place and pace meticulously, searching every corner and shadow for movement, all senses trained on his environment.

_Just keep your cool, Jim. Don't panic. _He'd done this a thousand times in training. Although, to be fair, in training, the people you had to protect—and fight—were just holograms. Wolverine pressed forward, clenching his fists as they got closer to the end of the trail, his claws slowly extending as his expression and posture became more grim. He turned a corner, finally bringing the team to the end of the line: a water turbine powering an underground campsite. The makeshift living space was made up of tents, portable heaters and fans, bedrolls, a portable stove, and a miniature refrigerator, all powered by the same massive turbine.

"Looks like someone—or someones—have been livin' here for a while," Wolverine said as he crouched down, retracting his claws and running two fingers along a patch of the ground that looked like it had been swept. He sniffed the air a few times, then walked over to the nearest tent. "The kid was here," he said, pointing to the cot inside. "This is where the blood trail ends, and his smell's all over this tent."

"So," Storm said from behind Colossus, "the boy lived here."

"Maybe, or whoever does gave him medical attention. Either way, the amount of blood on the trail and whatever's here ain't enough to indicate a lethal loss. It's a fair bet the kid's still alive and down here somewhere."

"Then let's keep looking," Cyclops chimed in. "Is his scent on anything else around here?"

Wolverine sniffed around the campsite, searching for any more traces of the boy. "Nada."

"How is that even possible? He's not still in that cot, so...where did he go?"

Everyone stood there silently, racking their minds. Force glanced at Shadowcat. _Through the ground, maybe? _The guy _was _something of a thief, so being able to go through walls would be a major boost. If that were the case, though, James figured he would have gone after bigger game._ Density shifting also doesn't explain how he can affect technology, unless that's a secondary mutation._ Apparently, someone else had his train of thought.

"Through the floor?" Iceman said. "Kitty can't be the only one to have that power."

"Certainly a possibility," Cyclops responded. "Could be a teleporter." Then something crossed the leader's mind. "Logan, you said there was more than one person staying here."

He nodded.

"Then we're dealing with a pack of mutants. An infinite number of power possibilities." Cyclops thought for another few seconds before continuing. "How recently has this place been abandoned?"

"Based on the fact that they still have food in the fridge," Magma chimed in from some ways away, "I'd say it isn't."

Cyclops smiled in satisfaction. "Then they're coming back. Perfect. We'll just wait for them here until they return."

"What if they see us as intruders?" Force asked. "Which they will."

"You're right, so nobody make any threatening moves. You hear, Logan? Logan?"

Off in the corner of their group, Wolverine was staring into one of the adjoining hallways intently, drawing in a deep breath and turning his left ear toward the space in front of him.

"What's wrong?"

"Those steps I heard earlier? They stopped as soon as we came in here."

_Snikt._

A chill ran through Force's blood. _Uh oh. _Like Cyclops, he'd guessed that whoever was down here was just a group of hobos or scared mutants hiding from the authorities._ It never crossed my mind that we might just have walked into a trap._ The new X-Man took a cautious ready stance. Wolverine never popped his claws unless things are about to get serious.

"Logan," Cyclops said in an impatient tone, stepping to Wolverine's side and laying his hand on his arm, "put those away, will you?"

The shorter man obeyed with a snarl.

"Come on out. We know you're there." Silence. "We're not gonna hurt you. We just want to talk." More uncomfortable silence. "We're looking for a boy, about twelve years old, five eight, calls himself Arcade?"

The water feeding into the turbine began to churn and slosh out of the trough that held it, sweeping toward the X-Men in an amorphous shape. Iceman blasted the water and solidified it midair, putting a barrier between it and them as more flew at the team. The air near a hallway whizzed with movement, and Wolverine popped his claws, slashing two shards of a hard brown substance out of the air before they hit Force. Before he could nod his thanks, he rolled to his left, dodging three more shards and taking cover behind a tent. Another hallway shimmered with movement, and a vaguely human figure emerged at an alarmingly fast rate, flying through the air at Storm, who was using her wind powers to push the water back into the main flow. Colossus stepped in the way, catching the figure and holding it briefly before vanishing in the same shimmer it rode in on.

"Peter!" Kitty yelled, dashing toward the shimmer as it faded away.

"Pryde, phase!"

She obeyed Cyclops's order, allowing two more shards to pass through her body. Force picked up one that had landed next to him and examined it carefully. _Is this...bone?_ He got his answer a second later when a slightly shorter girl, covered in bony spines, rushed out of the hallway the spikes came from, arms extended sideways, two foot-long bone blades sticking out of her arms. _Just like Spyke_—_except _homicidal_._ Force concentrated on his need to protect his partner, Iceman, who was, strangely enough, standing perfectly still, as if he were a statue. The girl was about to take advantage of his inaction when Force stepped from cover and blasted her back ten feet, knocking over one of the tents.

Cyclops was busy protecting Storm, who was still having trouble with the water, from the shimmer-man on her right when Wolverine leapt toward her left, claws extending to block a knife thrust that would have ruptured her femoral artery. _Woah. How could she have gotten that close without us knowing?_ The girl holding the knife brandished a second, dueling Wolverine blade to blade across the living space. The same figure from before shimmered into the middle of the room and bear hugged Kitty from behind. She phased through his arms and drove a kick into his gut when she solidified, sending him reeling backwards and shimmering again, vanishing from the room.

Colossus's roar could be heard from two hallways over as Force felt a slight shake. _Whoever he's fighting must be almost as strong as him._ The teen ran toward Iceman and shook him, then waved his hand in front of his friend's face when he didn't respond. _It's like he's absolute, solid ice._ Force saw a bright flash from the right corner of his eye and leapt backwards to dodge a burst of energy that set the tent in its path on fire. He looked for the source and saw a tall, heavily built young man who looked vaguely familiar. Focusing again, he let loose a stream of kinetic energy. The blast flared near the man and split around him as he extended his arms straight out, shattering the pipe he was standing in front of.

_How did he just_—_?_

Force grunted with the force of a physical impact. Someone—the bone-covered girl—had tackled him and was trying to skewer him through the chest with her left arm. He drove his right forearm to his left, deflecting the blade into the ground and pivoting the same arm to elbow her in the face. The blow impacted at her nose and stunned her briefly, allowing him to grab her neck with his right as he held her bladed arm at the wrist with his left. His legs wrapped around her torso, just above her waist, and his hips pivoted as his arms pulled in the same direction, all parts working in tandem to throw her off him. The move worked, and she was barrel rolling away, trying to recover her footing.

Force blasted again, but she was ready, dodging sideways and rushing at him. He ducked to his left as she lunged with hers, grabbing her right arm and turning, using her momentum to swing her clockwise, causing her to fall forward awkwardly, landing flat on her face. Another roar was heard from an adjacent hallway, closer this time, and was followed by Colossus and a pale white figure he was grappling with. They continued their struggle on the ground, pounding each other with blows that would have shattered a normal human's skeleton.

"Force, duck!"

The kid obeyed and felt a stream of intense heat pass above him as Magma torched the large man from before, who hissed in pain but kept striding toward a prone Shadowcat, arms crossed in front of him. _I never knew she got hit._ Colossus finally got the upper hand and threw his opponent into the hallway they came out of, then charged at the man with a roar, not caring about Magma's stream of fire as he tackled the man threatening his girlfriend. The two grappled for a few moments before the man got free and rolled to his feet, coming face to face with Colossus, whose expression turned to one of shock when their eyes met.

"Brother," he asked.

Force's eyes went wide. _Brother?_ He got to his feet as Magma cooled down and every ongoing fight in the room ground to a halt. Force looked around him at the virtual freeze-frame that had just occurred. Wolverine had the assassin girl's knives locked between his claws, Cyclops was about to blast the white figure that had been fighting Colossus, Storm had finally found the source of the wind-water disturbance and had him shivering from a flash-blizzard she had formed, Shadowcat was still unconscious, and Iceman was still frozen. His eyes turned back to Colossus and his brother, who were still staring at each other, the metal man's face a study in shock, the other looking suspiciously at his supposed brother. His eyes widened in recognition.

"Piotr?" he asked in a heavy Russian accent.

Colossus nodded, reverting to his normal human form.

"What are you doing here? Who are these people with you?"

"I'm...we're...looking for someone, Mikhail. A boy, like _he_ said." Colossus jerked his thumb toward Cyclops, who had still not taken his eyes off the white man, or his hand off his visor.

Mikhail pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes, waiting a few seconds before responding. "Stand down everyone."

They all obeyed in a ragged chorus, the white man lowering his ready arms, the wind manipulator standing and walking to the nearest heater, the girl untangling her knives from Wolverine's claws, and…

_Holy crap,_ Force thought as he looked behind him, seeing the bone-girl's right-hand blade just five inches from his back. Slowly, and still looking pissed, she lowered her weaponized arm and retracted her bone blades. _If he hadn't given that order...I'd be dead._ He gulped visibly.

"Nice aim," he told her, not knowing quite what to do.

She just snarled and snorted at him, turning away as she rolled her eyes and walked toward Mikhail. All he could do was stare off into the distance absently. _I let myself be distracted and let her get the drop on me. I've gotta be more careful._ He told Wolverine as much when he passed him on his way to the meeting of the two group leaders.

"Rookie mistake," he responded with an understanding smile. "You all make 'em, and that's okay...long as you learn from it."

Force nodded and joined the meeting's fringes next to Magma, who was sitting on the floor along with most of the team. He looked to his left and saw Iceman sitting next to Kitty, back in human form and freed from whatever held him solid. When he caught his icy friend's eye, he gave him a questioning expression. Iceman just shrugged. _So _he_ doesn't know either._

"So," he heard Cyclops say, "as I said earlier, we're looking for a boy who calls himself Arcade. We know he was here in this camp not long ago. Have you seen him?"

"No," Mikhail responded flatly. "The only ones who've been here in recent memory are standing in front of you. All except Bouncer, who doesn't like strangers, meaning you won't see him here."

"So who are these people with you?" Colossus asked his brother.

Mikhail stood slowly and motioned to the knife-girl on his left first. "Callisto," he said, shifting his focus to the white man next. "Caliban." He pointed at the still-shivering mess sitting by the heater. "That's Blow-Hard. And this—" he pointed to the glowering bone-girl, "—is Marrow. We are the Morlocks."

"Morlocks," Storm said thoughtfully. "You mean they re-formed?"

Mikhail looked at her strangely. "Yes. We did. How have you heard of us?"

"A few years ago, I was the _leader_ of the Morlocks. I knew something was familiar about you, Callisto."

The younger girl snarled at her and growled, prompting a nearly unnoticeable smirk from the once-weather goddess.

"You know this woman?" Mikhail asked Callisto.

"Why do you think I tried to gut her?" she responded. "This bitch stole the Morlocks from me."

"No," the dark woman responded, "I saved my friend Angel. Leading the Morlocks was simply a side bonus that kept a lot of innocent people safe from _unnecessary_ mutant aggression."

Callisto seemed ready to try her hand at assassinating Storm again when Wolverine slowly extended his left claws between them, his message clear.

"Enough," Mikhail said assertively. "What happened in the past is irrelevant." He turned to Cyclops. "The boy, Arcade. I don't know who he is or where he came from, and I don't know how his blood got into our camp."

Cyclops's eyes narrowed behind his visor, suspicion his predominant emotion. Force looked back at the tent they had found the blood in, and a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

"Wait a second," he said, pointing to the canvas shelter. "Whose tent is that?" Mikhail looked at the tent and thought for a second before an expression of realization blossomed on his face.

"Bouncer's."

Force smiled in triumph.

"You said he doesn't like strangers," Cyclops said, getting the new X-Man's point, "that we wouldn't see him here. He's a teleporter, isn't he?"

Mikhail nodded. _No scent. Scott was right._

"That would explain why Arcade's scent ended there," Cyclops said, echoing his thoughts. "Where's Bouncer now?"

Mikhail's expression suddenly turned defensive as he stood, tension showing in his figure.

"What do you intend to do?"

"With him or the boy?"

"Both."

Cyclops stood too. "Like I said before, we just want to talk. Arcade's been missing for days, and we think he may be a mutant."

Mikhail looked at Marrow, and their eyes met for a second as if they were communicating telepathically before the leader turned back to Cyclops.

"He usually stays near a junction when he's alone, so he has access to multiple hiding places to observe intruders from. We will take you to his most popular one."

Mikhail led the X-Men out of the turbine's room and through a series of corridors, Callisto and Caliban in the front with him and Cyclops, Marrow and a still-shivering Blow-Hard boxing them in from the rear. Force was in the back with Shadowcat, who looked like she couldn't wait to get out of the sewers. He looked back at Marrow and deliberately slowed his pace to walk alongside her.

"Hey there," he said awkwardly. "I'm Jim." No response. "So...you can grow your bones out."

She kept looking straight ahead, not even acknowledging him.

"I have a…friend who's like that. Calls himself Spyke." Still no response. He sighed lengthily. "I _get_ it. I really do. I shot you, threw you, tripped you. So you hate me. Just trying to have a conversation to pass the time."

She rolled her eyes contemptuously, and silence reigned between them for almost a full minute. "It's really not that," she said quietly, the first words he'd ever heard her speak.

He looked at her questioningly, silently asking for an explanation.

"You're a surface dweller." He still looked confused. "I've never met a surface dweller I can trust."

His face showed understanding.

"Ah, and the fact that I shot you isn't helping." He gave a nervous smile. "Got it."

They walked another hundred paces before speaking again.

"My name's Sarah."

He looked at her and gave her a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, Sarah." More silence. "So…why do you and the others live down here?"

"So we won't be seen," she answered simply. "People up there are a lot harsher toward people who look like _us_ as opposed to you."

Force looked her up and down, noticing the outgrown bone plates and spines all over her body. "So, you can't control any of these," he said, pointing to the growths.

She shook her head. "Ever since my mutation fired up, they've been there. Changed shape and size once or twice as I've grown, but still there."

"Hm," was all he could say in response. He opened his mouth to say something a minute later, but was cut off by Mikhail.

"We're here," he said. "Bouncer! Bouncer, where are you?!"

Force caught a shimmer in his peripheral vision and turned toward it, shouting out as Bouncer's figure emerged and charged at him. He ducked and rolled, dodging the attack by a hair's breadth and recovering to turn toward him. All he saw was another shimmer as Bouncer retreated. The other X-Men had, by now, noticed what was happening and were trying to make their way to him. Sarah extended her hand and helped Force stand up as another shimmer spawned in the shadows behind him and a hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling all three of them into his portal as they all vanished together.

_Where am I?_

Force got his answer when he and Sarah fell headlong into a sewer outflow. They swam to the nearest dry spot and hoisted themselves out, breathing heavily.

"Is he _always_ this homicidal?" Force asked her.

She opened her mouth to respond when another shimmer manifested next to them. The X-Man responded instantly, driving a left jab into it. The figure inside caught his fist and kicked him in the gut. Force retreated, wheezing slightly before reengaging, his fists engaged in a flurry of jabs, hooks, and crosses all in an attempt to off-balance his opponent. Bouncer teleported again, this time behind him, and drew an arm around his neck, trying to choke him out. Sarah lunged at his hand and tried to pull it away from Force's shoulder, but he held fast, every muscle tensed to its max, as if he were having a seizure.

Black spots swam across Force's vision as he began to lose consciousness and panic. _No...no!_ The blue in his eyes intensified, and his powers activated. He blasted the ceiling above them, causing rubble to fall toward the trio. Bouncer teleported again, saving all three of them from being crushed and taking them to another platform twenty feet away. Force looked downward, his powers still active, and collapsed the floor beneath Bouncer's heel, causing his grip to slacken and body to twist at just the right angle. Force elbowed him in the lower ribs, eliciting a sharp yelp from the teleporter as he released the X-Man and teleported away.

Force's eyes were still emitting kinetic energy, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't turn his powers off. The beams pummelled the walls, ceiling, water. Everywhere he looked, things collapsed.

"No," he cried in a panicked tone, "no! I can't stop!" He closed his eyes and squeezed them shut, stopping the beams and curling up in a terrified ball.

"Jim," he distantly heard Sarah say. "Jim, are you okay?"

"No," he said, his voice and entire body shaking in fear. "No." He tilted sideways and laid his left side on the cold concrete ground, curling up and keeping his eyes tightly closed. "No…" Everything around him, sounds, smells, and feelings, faded. Everything became blackness and void. When he woke up, his eyes were still closed, and he heard the gentle hum of the X-Jet's engines. He was only awake for a few moments before he passed out again. He regained consciousness in a bed with soft sheets draped over him. _I'm...home?_

"Hey," he heard Kitty say. "You had us worried there."

"You should be," he responded. "I can't turn it off."

"We know," Scott said from his left. "We saw what you did to the sewer trying to save yourself." He was silent a while before adding, "By the way, Marrow saved your life when Bouncer showed up again and tried to push you into the water."

Jim smiled a little. _I guess you don't hate me after all, Sarah._ "Did you ever find Arcade?"

"No. We eventually took down Bouncer with Mikhail's help. Found a device on the back of his neck that made him go haywire. That's why he attacked you."

The boy's brows furrowed. "Why me specifically?"

"We don't know. Hank's looking into the nature of the device, but frankly, he seems a little out of his depth—and that's saying something. Whatever knacks Arcade has for technology, I don't think he could create something that advanced. Not on his own."

"We fear there may be forces far more sinister at work," Professor X said from his front. "Until we determine who orchestrated that attack and why, we'll need to be alert, report any suspicious activity with relation to James."

"So," James said, "let's talk about the elephant in the room. Why can't I turn off my powers?"

"I believe that in your moment of panic in Bouncer's grip, your abilities took over and fed off of your fear, giving you power without control."

"How do I fix it?" A pause. "Professor," he started shakily, "how do I fix it?"

"That, my boy, is a question I fear I cannot answer. Not yet."

"Can't or won't?" Jim asked through clenched teeth.

"Can't. Your powers are fueled by your emotional state and intensity, and you're out of danger. You're not panicking or angry. Every emotion that has triggered your powers in the past should be currently absent, so we're not quite sure why they won't turn off."

"So, what you're saying is, I'm stuck like this, blind, unable to open my eyes, until we find a solution?"

"I never said that. When I was first told that your powers are activated by emotion, I feared something like this might happen, so I took steps to ensure we would have a contingency. I studied your powers as you trained, the energy you emit from your eyes. It's similar, though not identical, to that of Cyclops's abilities. As such, I managed to create a viable countermeasure."

Jim heard shuffling and felt something put onto his face.

"Now, open your eyes."

"No," he said, his voice shaking again.

"James, trust me. Being afraid of your powers will only make things worse, or at the very least keep you in this state. The sooner you accept your mutation as a natural part of yourself, every bit as natural as an arm or leg, the sooner you will gain full mastery over it. Now, open your eyes."

James bit his lower lip gently, then released it, allowing his squeezed eyes to relax and open. _So this is what Scott sees when he opens his eyes, except red._ Beyond his eyelids, James could see his world through a sapphire blue filter without emitting any beams or harming those around him.

"It—it works."

Xavier smiled at him and nodded.

"Thank you, Professor."

"Of course. Now, you'll probably want to get some sleep. We should give him some space."

"If you don't mind, Professor," Kitty said, "we'd like to stay for a bit, if that's all right with him, of course."

James looked at her.

"We?" he asked.

Kitty nodded to his far right, and his old training partners, Amara and Bobby were standing there.

He smiled. "Of course."

"All right," Xavier said, "just not too long. He needs rest."

They all nodded, and Scott left the room with Xavier.

"So," Bobby said, "you're like Scott now, huh?"

James nodded. An awkward silence passed between them.

"Well, on the bright side, having another Cyclops around couldn't hurt."

Kitty glared at him. "You're not helping, Bobby," she said angrily.

"I know, I just meant—"

"I know what you meant," James cut in with a sad smile. "It's just...I'm no Scott Summers."

"Not yet."

James knitted his eyebrows, an almost indiscernible gesture with glasses on. "What do you mean?"

"What he means is," Amara said from his left, "you have a gift. You might not see it now, but we do."

"And so do Scott and the Professor," Kitty added.

James said nothing, just lowered his head slightly and lay there in silence, his eyes obscured by his opaque-looking sapphire lenses. Sensing that the time for company was over, Kitty and the others filed out of the room and wished him a good night. Jim breathed in deeply, laying his head back and closing his eyes.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked, eyes still closed.

"Long enough," a voice answered from the shadows in a far corner of the room.

James opened his eyes and looked in its direction. "Did the Professor know?"

"If he did, he didn't say anything." Kal Sorenson materialized from the shadows, almost literally, or at least so it seemed.

"Why weren't you here with the others?"

"You had enough people crowded around you. Well, that and I wanted to speak with you in private."

James nodded, and centered his head again, closing his eyes for a second time.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Jim. I should have been there."

James shook his head and looked at Kal again.

"No, don't blame yourself. It was a solid plan, a solid team, and a solid mission. Crappy circumstances and an inability to control my own fear are to blame. I shouldn't have panicked." James chewed on his tongue, mentally chiding himself. _I couldn't control my powers, so the team lost Arcade, who could be who knows where doing who knows what_—_or having who knows what done _to_ him by the people that tagged Bouncer_—_trying to save me. I could've killed Sarah_—_and myself, for that matter, all because I panicked._ He snorted self-derisively. _Some X-Man I am._

"Stop it, James."

Jim looked up at Kal, who had crossed his arms in a reprimanding, almost fatherly way. "Stop what?"

"You _know_ what." Kal tapped his temple twice, indicating he had been reading his friend's thoughts. "The only way you're going to get better is to forgive yourself and stop being afraid of what you can do. You don't understand why your powers are on the fritz, and that's okay, but now you need to devote yourself to figuring it out, like I will. Like _everyone _here will." Kal narrowed his eyes and gave James a stern glare.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because I know you, and I know you'll try and handle this alone, like a prideful moron."

"Do you really know me, or are you just reading my mind and finding what you expect to find?"

"Both." The two best friends stared at each other for a full minute before Kal looked away from Jim's opaque blue lenses and stared off into the distance, leaning backward against a nearby wall. "You _know_ she'll want to help." James nodded.

"I know."

"And you know she won't take no for an answer."

The other mutant sighed. "I know."

Kal looked at him sideways. "So what are you gonna do?" Silence. "Better question, what are you not going to do?"

James rolled his eyes behind his glasses and sighed again, resigned. "Shut people out," he deadpanned.

Kal nodded. "That's right. You're not. So don't even _think_ about it."

James looked at him and saw his fingers tap his temple again.

"Remember, I'll know."

He laid his head back again.

"Get some rest, Jim. I'll come check on you in the morning before classes."

"Thank you."

"Of course."

"No, I mean—_thank you_. For everything. Being raised an only child in a household with two working parents, it's not easy for me to ask for help. Probably because I keep forgetting there are people to ask, even after over a year of being here."

Kal half-smiled understandingly. "Well, you know what they say, 'old habits die hard.'" He patted his friend's shoulder and squeezed it briefly. "And so do X-Men."

Jim smiled.

"You did great out there, panicked or not."

"Thanks."

Kal walked toward the door and got the lights before turning his head toward Jim. "Good night, old friend." And he vanished in a puff of blue smoke.

Jim smiled. "Good night." The fifteen-year-old laid his head back, and, a moment after closing his eyes, fell fast asleep.

...

Present, morning

A knock came at the door of James' new dorm, and he grumbled quietly with exhaustion, groaning out something that sounded like, "Come in."

The knob turned and the door opened, letting someone with light footfalls into the bedroom. Even in his half-asleep state, he listened intently to the steps. Since he had been unable to control his powers, Jim had spent a good deal of time with his eyes closed, a state which, as blind people repeatedly demonstrate, improved his other senses. For the last week, he had been learning to harness this very ability, enhancing his hearing the moment he closed his eyes and analyzing the sounds around him to get something of a picture. _After all,_ he had thought, _it's almost certain that I'll be left without my glasses someday and forced to work without the use of my vision._

As he concentrated, certain traits of his visitor, who had yet to speak, revealed themselves. _Light footfalls, a graceful pace. Female_—_five-seven to five-ten? Maybe?_

"Good morning, James," she said. _Ah. Of course. My second mother._ "I heard you did a bit of remodeling last night."

He breathed in deeply as he reached for his glasses, slightly relieved when he found them where they were supposed to be, and put them on, turning to face Emma. "Demolition, actually," he said. "The window didn't fit the room."

"And neither did the wall, apparently." She arched an eyebrow at him.

"There's a point at which a guy tires of euphemism and skirting."

She chuckled lightly. "I can always tell yours. Your language gets uncharacteristically sophisticated."

He laid on his side, facing away from her. "So why are you here?"

"I'm here to take you to the hangar."

"The X-Jet hangar?"

"Do we have another one?"

He turned his head toward her and arched an eyebrow. _She's smirking. _It was ever so slight, and she probably thought he didn't notice, but he _ woke up in a good mood._ James groaned as he pushed himself out of bed, planting his feet on the ground and standing painfully, his legs unexplainably stiff.

"For what?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?"

He took a closer look at her and noticed she wasn't wearing her usual teaching clothes. She was in all white, not surprising, but not her casual outfit. She was wearing a white half-top with an attached cloak, her lower midriff exposed, as usual. _I've always wondered, why have a suit whose fabric is bulletproof, and then a gigantic hole where your gut is?_

"Because it often catches my opponents off-balance…especially men."

He looked up at her eyes and saw a mocking expression there. Jim rolled his eyes. _Damn telepaths. I always think my mind and I decided to have _two_ of them as my closest friends. Go figure._

Emma looked at her nailed in a bored fashion. "If you're done lamenting your close relationships with us 'damn telepaths,' would you kindly get dressed and accompany me?"

He sighed in response. "I'm not ready for another mission."

"The Professor believes you are." He started to speak when she cut him off. "_I _believe you are."

As much as James trusted Professor Xavier, Emma and he had become so close, her word was as good as law. Eight minutes later, he was dressed in comfortable plainclothes concealing his black X-Men uniform and striding into the X-Jet hangar in the mansion's sub-basement, where a team of four was already gathered. _Nightcrawler, Iceman, Cyclops, Phoenix, and Emma. What kind of mission _is_ this?_

"James," Cyclops said, "glad you could join us." He shook the teen's hand.

"So," Jim said uncertainly, "what's the gig?"

"Protection detail for Senator Kelly. There's been a threat against his life."

"By whom?" Emma asked.

The trenchcoat-clad leader looked at both of them. "The Brotherhood."

Jim's eyes went wide behind his glasses, and ice filled his veins.

"_The _Brotherhood?" he asked. "As in the one led by Magneto and operated by some of the most dangerous mutant psychos in the world?"

"Yeah," Iceman said, "that'd be the one."

James looked at Emma, his mouth agape. _My first day back, and you people want me to face down the _Brotherhood_?_

_"No,"_ she said in his head, _"just keep watch. You won't be alone, and the particular event Kelly will be attending today is hardly the opportune time for Magneto to strike."_

"Excuse me," Cyclops cut in, "is there something I'm missing?"

James looked at him. "No," he responded. "I just don't know how useful I'll be without my powers."

Jean smiled. "Who said anything about being powerless?" she asked him.

He narrowed his eyes at her. _What is she talking_—

Cyclops raised his hand, lifting into view a curved device that closely resembled his own. Jim's eyes widened, and he reached out to take it, closing his eyes and taking off his glasses before pressing the visor against his face. The side mechanisms adhered to the sides of his head using a technology he couldn't identify, and when he opened his eyes, he was aware that he was still seeing the world in blue. He was also aware of a slightly increased weight on his face and nose, firm, but not unpleasant. _This'll take some getting used to_.

"Don't worry," Cyclops said, "I'll teach you how to use it on the flight to the rally."

James nodded in acknowledgement and smiled at the ground as everyone else filed onto the jet. _Well, that was...nice. Not surprising, but nice. _He honestly didn't know how useful he'd be, but if they thought he had some value, who was he to argue? He looked up the ramp of the jet. If Scott could handle being irretrievably stuck like he was, he could endure it for however long he needed to. There was no room for selfish where he was going, and refusing help would be endangering both himself and the team. _I'm willing to risk my life for the cause of the X-Men, but it has to be _my_ life, no one else's._

"Hey," Iceman called from the jet's inside, "what're you waiting for?"

Jim smiled. "Coming," he responded, striding up the entry ramp with firm, confident steps.


	4. Issue IV: It's On Again

If Scott could handle being irretrievably stuck like he was, he could endure it for however long he needed to. There was no room for selfish where he was going, and refusing help would be endangering both himself and the team. _I'm willing to risk my life for the cause of the X-Men, but it has to be _my_ life, no one else's._

"Hey," Iceman called from the jet's inside, "what're you waiting for?"

Jim smiled. "Coming," he responded, striding up the entry ramp with firm, confident steps.

...

Ten minutes later

3 years, 1 month after the Battle of New York

"So, you get the idea?"

Force nodded in response. "The dial operates on a spring-loaded swivel and doubles as a firing button," he said. "Depending on how far you turn the dial, the blasts will be more or less powerful."

Cyclops nodded in response. "The filter allows you to finely control just how much energy you let through, from a precise shot meant to blow the lock off a door to a gigantic blast that can blow the roof off a building."

James nodded slowly, his eyes drifting around the jet and settling on Emma. "So, where am I going to be during the rally?"

Cyclops swiveled in his seat and activated a holoprojector in the middle of the aircraft. Displayed on it was a layout of the outdoor venue, an auditorium-style space with attendee chairs all on the same level and a raised stage.

"Senator Kelly is going to be speaking at the podium here," Cyclops said, pointing to the center of the stage. "Security at the event will be tight, so our primary concern is the surrounding buildings." The projection expanded, showing several six and eight-story buildings around the exposed side of the stage. "If someone wanted to kill Kelly, they'd have a clear shot from any one of those buildings."

James scoffed. "You'd think that Kelly would be smart enough to expect that, considering how long he's been getting death threats from the Brotherhood."

Emma turned around in her seat and faced them. "He is, so he'll likely have snipers posted around the perimeter of the venue watching those buildings."

"But," Cyclops cut in, "unless he has an army of them, I'm pretty sure there's no way they can cover that many windows."

Force nodded and looked out the window, seeing the ivory-clad buildings of Albany in the distance.

"We're here," Jean called from the front, taking the ship into stealth mode and landing on a rooftop about six blocks from the rally.

All six team members strode off the exit ramp, the jet re-cloaking as the ramp retracted. They all stayed at the bottom as Cyclops gave them their marching orders.

"All right," he said. "Listen closely, because this is important. Kelly won't take kindly to us being there, so it's _imperative_ that our presence go undetected unless absolutely necessary. To that end, you all have to stay in plainclothes until the Brotherhood makes its move, or, I should say, _if_ they do. Nightcrawler, use your image inducer, but stay out of sight as much as possible. Emma, you're going to draw a bit of attention in your cloak, so you might want to leave it behind." She nodded and marched back up the ramp. "Force, find a spot with long, open sight lines and a clear view of all the buildings in question. I'll do the same. Jean, you and Emma—" He looked up the ramp to see her striding down, having lost the cape but donned an open jacket of the same white material as her half-top. "You two will scan the crowd and surrounding area for any signs of aggression. If you pick anything up, tell us. Make sure you keep us all in telepathic contact."

They nodded.

"All right then. Let's get to work."

They descended to street level within a matter of minutes, staying just inside the building until Nightcrawler activated his wrist-mounted image inducer, tucking his tail into his plainclothes and walking out first. The rest followed in a staggered manner, trying not to be seen together as they made their way to the rally. _I wonder, _Jim thought, _I wonder if anyone will look at my visor closely. I mean, it can't be every day that you see not one but _two _scary guys in visors with colored eyeslits in the same place at the same time._

He looked over at Scott. _But, I'm not the expert, _he _is, and if he's been in these kinds of situations before and gotten out okay, so will I._ They kept pressing toward the venue, the crowd becoming thicker as they went, slowing but not stopping them from proceeding. When they finally got inside, James saw why Cyclops was so concerned about security. You could see the upper floors of the surrounding buildings almost no matter where you stood in the seating area, much less the elevated stage. _How could Kelly be stupid enough to have this little get-together _here_?_

He shook his head as he found a seat on the edge of the auditorium, turning in his chair to look at the buildings. James observed the crowd, looking for his teammates and barely noticing that Scott had taken up a position almost directly opposite him, but otherwise seeing no one. _I guess that's kinda the point of "low profile."_ Suddenly, he heard a slightly echoed voice in his head.

_"Is everyone hearing me?"_ Emma asked telepathically.

Jim heard faint but discernible affirmatives from the rest of the team, giving his own by thought. _That's gonna take some getting used to. The fact that I'm constantly thinking probably isn't going to help my teammates concentrate any._

_"If you're focusing on your teammates, then it _will _be distracting. If you keep your mind to yourself, then we shouldn't hear your thoughts."_

Jim's eyes narrowed and he grimaced in confusion.

_"Just try not to pay attention to that thread in the back of your mind."_

He nodded uneasily and continued observing the area, noting that Kelly was about to take the stage. The brown-haired, five-ten senator strode up to the podium, the audience erupting in applause as he stretched out his hands with a smile, waiting for them to calm before speaking.

"My fellow Americans," he said over the mic, "New Yorkers, residents of our great state Capitol. Thank you for coming out today. As you well know, my office has become increasingly aware of a national crisis, and I have lobbied and petitioned on Capitol Hill for the greater U.S. Government to do something about it. Since their discovery in the early sixties, mutants have grown more numerous, more powerful, and more dangerous. Even with the efforts and assistance of the Mutant Response Division, we find ourselves hopelessly outmatched and outgunned by them and their unnatural abilities."

Jim's face twisted into a disgusted expression. _Oh _please_. I've seen what your MRD _really_ does, you lyin' piece of crap. _Dragging innocent people from their homes, interrogation, illegal incarceration—all because they were born different and it started showing.

"In recent events, a group of mutants has made threats against my life in an attempt to stifle my efforts to protect you and the rest of the American public from them, but…as you can see—" he spread his arms tauntingly, "—I'm still standing here."

The audience, with the exception of James and any other X-Men he could see, was applauding.

"Moreover," Kelly continued, "I have partnered with Trask Industries to produce a more effective long-term solution to the mutant problem, a means of defending humanity and its interests from the machinations of these freaks." He motioned to one of his aides, who activated a holoprojector behind him.

The image was projected just above Kelly's head, a fourteen-foot tall humanoid robot that, for some reason, looked exceptionally imposing to James.

"To this end, Project Sentinel has begun. These machines, built to detect the mutant X-Gene and equipped with the tools to defeat them, will be mankind's saviors. Production of the first line of Sentinels has already begun, and you will begin to see these mechanical guardians on a daily basis within a few short months, patrolling the streets and keeping you safe from the mutant scourge." More applause. "With your support and that of Trask Industries, we will take and maintain the advantage in this conflict of species. And, with time, we will triumph."

The entire audience, from where James was sitting, gave Kelly a standing ovation, and he stretched out his arms, smiling broadly at the support he was receiving.

This _is the guy we're protecting? A gray-suited bigot with a vendetta against mutants and no qualms about stating his intentions? Dress it up in all the euphemism and rhetoric you like, Kelly, but I know you would like nothing better than to exterminate us._ Suddenly there was another voice in his head, and James realized he'd been tugging on the "string."

_"We're X-Men, James,"_ he heard Cyclops say over the mind link. _"We defend the innocent no matter what their views on mutants are."_

James stared at him from across the amphitheatre, gaping. _"_Innocent_?! Are you effin' kiddin' me? The man just told a crowd of over a thousand people exactly what he has planned for us: total annihilation, and you want to protect him? Because I don't."_

_"James,"_ he heard Emma think, _"he knows the mutants that he sees, the ones whose actions he's aware of. All he has ever known is the Brotherhood, with little variation. He likely doesn't even know we exist. In his position, I might do the same, and if you're honest, so would you."_

James scowled and snarled. _"No. I wouldn't. Because my parents taught me better than that. Better than this." _James rose from his seat and started walking toward the exit, but was stopped by the massive throng of applauding attendees, so was forced to wait.

_"James,"_ Emma started, _"if this job was easy_—_wait."_

Jim stopped looking for an exit.

_"I'm sensing something outside the stadium. Kurt, search the building on the south side."_ A few seconds passed before she sent another mind-message. _"Oh no."_

_"I sense it too,"_ Jean cut in.

_"Scott, the stage!"_

Jim looked over at Cyclops on the other side of the stadium, but a line of clapping people barred him from getting to the stage. _Oh, I just _know _I'm gonna regret this._ James charged the stage, barrelling past a startled security guard and rushing straight for Kelly. Another guard on Kelly's opposite side saw him coming and stepped between the senator and the open air. A split-second later, a sharp crack was heard, and one of the guard's lower ribs were caved in as a high-velocity bullet entered his body. The crowd's deafening applause turned to screams as they all scattered in a panic.

Kelly was in the middle of being spirited away backstage when James looked for the source of the bullet, then back at the fleeing senator. Even from just over ten feet away, he could see the red dot of a targeting laser alternately painting his chest and the bodies of the guards around him as they moved toward the exit. Jim's head snapped back toward the downed guard, whose chest was heaving weakly. _Think fast, Jim. You've only got a few seconds at most before the gunman fires again. Where did that bullet come from?_

_"James," _Emma thought to him, _"see with my eyes."_ The teenager closed his eyes and began to see a vision of the buildings from another perspective. The gaze was focused on a window on the tenth floor of a development under construction, where a slight glint could be seen in the noonday sun. He opened his eyes and locked in on the same window.

_"I've got it,"_ he thought to Emma, looking for Cyclops and still seeing him irretrievably bogged down in the stampeding crowd. _He doesn't have a shot._ James looked back at the building's window. _But I do._

For the first time, his right hand reached up to his visor and he stared directly at the window, all else in his vision fading as he focused his eyes hard. _Please let this work._ His fingers moved, turning the visor's dial halfway and pressing slightly inward. As the quarter-second between this action and the visor's response occurred, the assassin fired again, sending a bullet streaking toward Senator Kelly at over 400 meters per second. The beam from Force's visor emitted only slightly slower, its edge crossing the bullet's path halfway to its target and forcefully redirecting it into the far right of the stage.

The beam slammed through the window and into the room beyond, the assassin having leapt away barely a split-second before it was too late. Force's fingers lowered off the visor, and he looked behind him to see if Kelly was alive. He was, and was staring at his mutant rescuer, mouth slightly agape. Force stared back until he heard a voice in his head.

_"Force," _Jean said telepathically, _"the assassin's escaping! Get after him!"_

He looked in her direction, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _"Why me?"_ he asked.

_"There are at least three Brotherhood soldiers waiting for the senator backstage, I just picked it up. I think the gunshots were just a distraction, and we need our senior members to fight them."_

He turned back to Kelly, who was still staring at him, and snarled briefly before sprinting toward the crowded exit to get outside.

_"Here, let me help."_

Force suddenly felt his feet lift the ground as Jean telekinetically lifted him over the stadium's walls and into the building's unfinished eighth floor.

_"Go, I'll guide you as best I can."_

Force nodded and broke off at a sprint, a slight tug in his head leading him toward the assassin. He descended two floors and cut across the hallway of the sixth, entering that end's stairwell and catching a glimpse of his quarry leaping down a flight just below him.

"Stop!" he yelled, following in his steps, sliding down the handrail to slow his descent just enough not to be injured. Another two floors passed before Force raised his hand to his visor and blasted the flight on the floor below his target, collapsing the stairs and trapping him on the third floor. _Gotcha, _Jim thought with a smile. But his celebration was short-lived, as the target ducked through the door on the third floor. By then, Force had nearly caught up with him and entered the floor just two seconds later, chasing after him hard.

_"I've got a clear line of sight on this guy,"_ he thought to Jean. _"Go help the others!"_

_"All right,"_ she responded, some trepidation in her mental voice. _"Good luck."_

Now that the assassin was clearly in sight, Force had the chance to observe him. The man was about his height, dressed from head to toe in gray fatigues, a gray-green mask with goggles pulled over his face. Force ran harder, pushing his legs, lungs, and heart to the limit trying to catch up with him. The assassin drew a gun, and panic flashed through his pursuer momentarily before he raised the weapon to a window he was running straight at and fired, cracking the glass and weakening it enough for him to jump through going full-tilt. Force slowed down until he saw why he jumped: there was a slightly lower rooftop just twelve feet away. The assassin rolled when he hit the ground, continuing his run as soon as his feet touched the ground again.

_Parkour? _The X-Man smirked. _I can do that too._ He leapt out the window, rolling on impact the same way his target had and kept up the pursuit, losing his line of sight when the assassin rounded the corner of a half-collapsed brick wall. As he followed, his battle instincts kicked in, as the metallic shine of a weapon in the sun reached his eyes as soon as he looked around the corner. Force dropped into a slide as the assassin fired twice from less than eight feet away. The assassin was a good shot, but his opponent didn't have to aim, just look. The visor released a precise beam of energy that disarmed the assassin and gave him just enough time to close the distance.

Force engaged the Brotherhood fighter hand-to-hand, still leery about using his powers on people after he nearly pulverized his roommate. This, as he found a few moments later, was a mistake. Force threw a right cross at his opponent, who ducked the punch and delivered a knife-hand strike to the X-Man's shoulder joint. He withdrew in pain, throwing a series of quick jabs meant to put his opponent on the defensive while taking his own down for less than half a second. Every shot was blocked before the assassin started his counterattack. The gray-clad man slid forward under Force's right hook and redirected the back kick that followed, leaping onto Jim's back and flipping him forward onto the cement floor of the roof.

Pain lacing his back, James rolled to his feet and put the assassin back into his sight lines, his style defensive. He heard an almost imperceptible snort from his opponent, who charged diagonally at the brick wall. _I know what you're doing._ Force turned his attention diagonally and lunged his right arm forward as the assassin leapt off the wall, adding force to a punch that would have decked the X-Man had it landed. As it were, James' blow impacted in the man's gut, and he fell onto his hands and knees, his opponent throwing a lower roundhouse kick at his now-vulnerable head.

The assassin pushed back with his arms, barely getting his head out of the kick's path in time and charging toward the X-Man. James leapt directly upwards, sticking his knee in front of him, but the assassin threw up a double-block, pushing his lower body behind his upper and causing the X-Man to fall into the same position he'd been in just a few moments ago. The Brotherhood soldier wrapped one arm around James' neck, squeezing the blood flow to his brain before Jim arched his back and reached to the back of his assailant's neck, then shifting all his body weight forward and flipping the assassin forward.

He rolled away, reevaluating his options and sizing up his opponent, each of them pacing around the other in a ready stance. The assassin ran at Force and leapt into the air with a flying kick that James redirected. He landed in a seamless Parkour roll and seemed to—_shift_ as he turned back toward James, pulling off the mask and goggles. The shape of his body changed, and he lost two inches during the transformation into…

Jim's eyes went wide behind his visor. _Mystique?! No, too young._ A pair of gleaming yellow eyes watched him, narrowing dangerously as the expression of the blue-skinned, red-haired teenage female turned deadly. James winced _Can definitely see a family resemblance, though._

"Who are you?" he asked. The girl cocked her head and kept silent. "Why does Magneto want Kelly dead?"

She raised an eyebrow and smirked sardonically before responding in a smooth, lilting voice. "The real question is, why don't you?"

His eyebrows furrowed, an expression she saw.

"You heard his presentation, his hatred for our kind. I saw you there, in the crowd. Saw your face as he outlined his plan for mutants. You were disgusted."

Jim's hard expression caved and suddenly turned weary.

"So, the question is, why—don't—you?" She took a step toward him as she said every word, seeing that virtually all the fight had left him.

He looked toward the ground, seeming to deeply contemplate her words.

"You do, don't you?" she asked, seeing his struggle. "Join us, and you will be free from men like him, forever. Free to live as you wish—or fight back against the humans who would do what he is planning to. Join us."

She put her right hand on his shoulder, and he lifted his visored eyes to meet hers. Up close and smiling, she looked no more dangerous than a normal teenage girl just getting her bearings in early high school. _Well, that and she's..._gorgeous_. Shame, really,_ he thought with a smile. Taking it as a good sign, she relaxed. _Big mistake._ He grabbed the wrist on her shoulder and twisted it clockwise, stepping back and forcing her to turn her body to avoid it being dislocated. He thought he had won when a strong back kick slammed into his diaphragm, pushing all the air out of him at once and sending him staggering backwards. She turned back toward him, furious and leapt at him, wrapping her legs around his head and throwing him to the ground. Crawling atop his beaten body, she held a knife to his throat.

"Why?" she hissed out, snarling at him. "Why do you protect them?! They hate us, scream at us, _abandon_ us, try to destroy us. Why?!" He just stared up at her for a moment, dazed.

"Because," he said, slowly slipping into unconsciousness, "they're not all the same. My parents..._they're_ human, and they knew I was a mutant...but they didn't care. They loved me all the same. And—" He was interrupted by a wheezing cough on his part. "And if there are more humans like that...then maybe there's still...hope." Jim's eyes closed and his body went completely limp as he passed out.

...

_Did he just-?_ Mirror let out a long, hissing breath as she held her knife to the young X-Man's neck, debating in her head whether to finish him off. _He protected Senator Kelly, that monster. What does he think he'll accomplish? What do any of the X-Men think they'll accomplish by protecting humans who hate and fear us?_ Halting her mental query, Nalya Darkholme turned her attention back to Force and her decision. _Just do it, Lia. You know Mother would. Probably._ Her hand pressed the knife-point harder against his skin, but stopped just at the point of breaking it. She sighed and removed the blade from his neck, snapping it closed and returning it to her belt.

As she leaned back and took a good look at him, she realized for the first time that he was probably as young as she was. _Young…_ She pulled his visor off, and when she did, her eyebrows went up and mouth curved. And_ good-looking...and that stunt you pulled, bluffing me out_—_brilliant. _Suddenly she was very glad she didn't kill him. Her tongue in cheek, Nalya turned over all her options as she stared at his face. _Oh, come on, girl. It'll never happen...with anyone, probably, much less someone like him. He thinks I'm a murderer._ She sighed deeply, looking down at the knife on her belt and raising her eyebrows ruefully. _Me trying to shoot and stab him probably didn't help that impression, either._

She looked back at his sleeping face, his mouth slightly open in unconscious laxity, and reached into her pant pocket, pulling out its single content and eyeing it in her hand. _This was given to me by my first date...who dumped me as soon as he saw the real color of my skin._ She pushed the memory away, sighing again. _Oh, what the hell do I have to lose?_ She placed the small object in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and leaning toward him, her face inches from his.

And then she leaned closer.

Five seconds later, she stood up and left, taking his visor with her, looking back at him briefly, then at the curved polymer device. _Something to remember _you _by, handsome._ As she descended to ground level and shifted to her human form, Nalya's mind unconsciously drifted back to his last words, a small part of her wondering whether they might be true.

...

James groaned slightly as he regained consciousness, about to open his eyes when he realized that he no longer felt a weight on them. Reaching up, he confirmed his suspicions and felt an absence of visor where his eyes were. _Good thing my parents and teachers taught me to always be prepared._ He reached into his right jacket pocket and pulled out its contents, flicking his wrist sharply to extend his glasses' arms before putting them on. Opening his eyes, he once again saw the world in blue, sitting up and looking around him. A cursory inspection of his surroundings revealed his suspicion that one: he was alone, and two: the mysterious girl had left.

_And left _that _behind, _he thought as his eyes found the mask and goggles. Crouching down, he picked them up, looking through the goggles as if they were her eyes. He closed his and recalled his thin memories of her. The way her face wore a smile. The gold color of her eyes. _It's funny, the way everyone says people react around Mystique, you'd think her eyes would unnerve me more, but...I don't know. Maybe her daughter is different somehow, but I think they complete the picture perfectly._ He smiled as the image of her walking over to him came to his mind. _And it's quite the picture._

That's when he realized his left hand was closed around something small and...circular, by the feel of it. Opening his hand, James looked at its single content: a small, quarter-sized pin, predominantly gold with a black center. The gold was forged in the shape of a supernova. His brows furrowed. _She left this with me...why? _Based on the way she'd been pressing that knife to his neck, he would've figured she hated his guts just for stopping her assassination attempt…much less tricking her into letting her guard down. His eyes narrowed in question, and after a few more seconds of self-debate, he huffed, giving up for the moment. _Women. Now I get why my guy friends can't understand them._

"James!" he heard someone yell over his comm, nearly breaking his eardrum with its volume.

"Ouch!" he responded. "Yeah, I'm here. Could you possibly shout any louder?" He heard a sigh from the other end.

"You're all right," Emma said. "Thank God. We've been trying to contact you for over five minutes. We thought something happened."

He looked up at the horizon, walking to the edge of the building leading to the street. "Something _did_ happen. The assassin escaped."

"But you stopped him from achieving his goal. As long as you're all right, it's fine."

"Her."

"Sorry," someone else, Cyclops, asked.

"It was a she. The assassin was a blue she."

"Mystique," he said decidedly.

James shook his head. "No, I don't think so. She looked young. Like, _my_ age young. Well, that and I'm still alive." Silence reigned over the comm. for a few seconds.

"Interesting. Daughter?"

Jim shrugged. "Probably. Hey, if you guys aren't too busy, can you send someone to pick me up?"

"Already on it," Jean cut in, and he heard a slight whine in the air.

Looking for its source, he saw a slight shimmer on the horizon. _It never ceases to amaze me how that thing can stay hidden in broad daylight._ The X-Jet hovered mid-air, decloaking some 20 feet away.

_Bamf._

Nightcrawler was suddenly standing next to him.

"_Guten tag, mein freund._"

_Bamf. _

They were instantly standing in the X-Jet's passenger bay.

"Thanks, Kurt."

"It was no problem at all." He sat, and James followed suit as the jet rose into the skies and accelerated.

"So…what happened while I was out?" the kid asked the team.

Jean turned to him. "The Brotherhood sent Blob, Toad and Avalanche." She motioned to Iceman. "Bobby was able to keep them away from Kelly while the rest of us went to work. They got away when Avalanche made a makeshift tunnel into the subway. The structure was too unstable in their wake, so we couldn't pursue."

Jim nodded in understanding. "But we won, right?"

Jean nodded and smiled.

"Yay," he said halfheartedly, slumping back into his seat and closing his eyes.

Jean's smile faded. "Jim, I know you don't like Kelly, and you don't see the point of—"

"I see the point," he interrupted. "I saw the look of utter shock on his face when I saved his life. The purpose of the X-Men is to be a counter for mutant groups like the Brotherhood, to show humanity that there's a better way." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Right?"

She nodded.

He shrugged. "Then we won." He leaned back in his seat.

Cyclops turned to Jim from the cockpit and drew his eyebrows together. "What happened to…?" His question dropped off as he motioned to his own face and visor.

"Oh," James stuttered. "Uh, I think she kinda...took it as a trophy."

Scott's eyebrows shot up, along with Emma's and Bobby's.

Jim shrugged. "Go figure."

Emma drew her eyebrows together and looked at him intently, lips slightly apart.

"What?"

"Have you been drinking?" she asked.

He opened his mouth to respond and realized for the first time that his lips were wet. _I wasn't..._ His eyes widened_._ _She didn't. _His fingers pressed to them. _Oh, she did! _He looked back up at Emma and saw she was still waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," he lied, leaning back into his seat as Emma nodded slowly and turned around in hers. Really_ hope she didn't read my mind right then._ He looked at her from behind, eyes narrowed. _Meh, if she did, she ain't showing it._ His head leaned back and he closed his eyes, turning over his experience with the girl over and over again. _So she tries to shoot at me, fight me hand-to-hand while she has a knife in her pocket, then talk me down. _It was like she saw that him holding back with his powers and adjusted accordingly, like she was trying not to use more force than was needed.

Throughout the entire trip back to the X-Mansion, James pondered the ramifications of their meeting, why she had kissed him, left him the pin. Whether what he had said meant anything to her. Whether she even listened. _One thing's for sure. I've gotta meet this girl again if I'm gonna get any answers. Well, that, and...I just wanna see her again._ He smiled and took out the supernova pin. _Maybe she doesn't hate me after all…though I doubt Emma would approve of my current line of thinking._

He smiled more broadly, closing his eyes and resting his head on the headrest.

"So," Emma said, interrupting his near-sleep, "how did it feel to be part of the team again?"

He looked at her from behind his glasses, not lifting his head though he nearly jumped at her voice. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "the visor'll take some getting used to." He grimaced. "And some replacing. Sorry, Cyclops."

The man chuckled.

"But...overall, I think I can do this." He stared straight into Emma's blue eyes, smiling confidently. "I _know_ I can."


	5. Issue V: Gratitude

"So," Emma said, interrupting his near-sleep, "how did it feel to be part of the team again?"

He looked at her from behind his glasses, not lifting his head though he nearly jumped at her voice. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "the visor'll take some getting used to." He grimaced. "And some replacing. Sorry, Cyclops."

The man chuckled.

"But...overall, I think I can do this." He stared straight into Emma's blue eyes, smiling confidently. "I _know_ I can."

...

Ten minutes later

Nalya Darkholme strode through the doors of the Brotherhood's underground safehouse beneath Staten Island, apprehensive and not at all looking forward to the earful she was about to get from her mother. The five-ten girl rounded a corner, walking past the three-man backup plan Mystique had set in place in case she failed to eliminate Kelly, which she had. They all snickered at her and made it very clear they expected her to be very severely punished for her failure. She grimaced and kept walking, approaching the room where she knew her commander would be. One foot in front of the door, she raised her hand to knock, hesitating for just a second before doing so.

"Come in," a voice said from inside.

Nalya opened the door and closed it behind her, looking at the ground and not the person inside the room.

"Welcome back, Mirror."

"The mission," Nalya responded, "was a failure." She looked up at her mother and saw a mocking expression on her face.

"Oh, I know. I heard all about your failure from the others."

The girl looked up sharply and opened her mouth to defend herself. "I had him in my sights, Mother! And then the X-Men intervened."

"From what I heard, it was just one. One _boy_ who attracted the right amount of attention at the right time, and you let him prevent you from carrying out your orders."

Nalya looked down in shame.

"Kelly was supposed to meet his end today, at our hands, before he could continue with his campaign against our kind. Today was supposed to be a message to Trask and the rest of humanity that we would not stand idly by while they attempt to exterminate mutantkind, and instead it was a display of the power and superior conviction of mutant traitors in defense of their persecutors." She narrowed her piercing yellow eyes. "Do you believe in what we're doing or not?"

"Yes," Nalya whispered in response.

Mystique put her hand to her ear. "Sorry?"

"Yes," her daughter said, a little louder.

"Then start acting like it."

The girl winced at her tone, and her mother narrowed her eyes at her, waiting a few seconds before speaking again.

"The X-Man who prevented you from completing your mission, who is he?"

She was quick to answer. "I don't know. I've never seen him before, in my studies or anywhere else before today. He chased after me, caught up to me, actually, but I handled him." Nalya could've sworn she saw the side of her mother's mouth tip upward slightly. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I have an idea for your next assignment. If this boy is as skilled as you seem to believe, then he merits watching. I'd like you to do just that."

Nalya's mouth dropped slightly. "You mean, you want me to—?"

"Shadow him. Follow him, from a distance or up close. Observe and record, that's all."

Nalya thought for a second before her face fell slightly. "Mother, I know I failed you today, but I won't next time, I swear."

"You didn't fail _me_, Nalya, you failed the Brotherhood, a much more egregious sin. But...you proved yourself valuable in another regard, as an infiltrator and escapist. Do not misunderstand, your new assignment is not punishment, but training. I will not so easily cast my own daughter aside as your father did."

Nalya gulped, her eyes stinging with tears as her mother walked to her and pulled her close.

"Your time will come, my dear, but this mission proved that you're not ready to give all to the Brotherhood. Not yet. I love you."

Nalya held her mother close, not wanting to let go but knowing she would want her to leave for her assignment immediately. "So," the girl said, pulling away and wiping her eyes, "where should I start?"

Mystique gave her a sinister smile. "The Xavier Institute, in Westchester, New York."

...

One month later

3 years, 2 months after the Battle of New York

_Go on,_ James thought, _give me a reason to._ He paced around his opponent in a circle, his stance ready and primed for any change in his opponent's behavior.

"Your thoughts betray you," Jim's opponent said suddenly. "You have to learn to hide your feelings, direct your body at your next move while your mind is focused on something else. It's 'fighting telepaths' 101."

"Funny," James responded, "I've never heard of that class."

"Well, you're certainly enrolled now."

The other kid charged at him, leaping at Jim in a flying kick that his opponent ducked and rolled under, spinning to face him and throw a series of quick kicks that were all deflected. James grappled with him, using the principles of Jiu-Jitsu that Logan had taught him to off-balance the fifteen-year-old and throw him sideways. The other kid rolled and recovered, planting a kick on James's center mass as he advanced on his opponent. _He's tough, I'll give him that._

_"More than tough, I'd say," _a voice in Jim's head said. He rolled his eyes and let his arms fall.

"Seriously? You are _so_ cheating."

"Hey," Kal quipped back, "you don't see me griping about you using your powers, or you _wouldn't_ if you would actually _use _them."

"I thought the whole point of a sparring session was to determine how developed one's hand-to-hand skills are."

"That _would _be the case—if we weren't both mutants. In my opinion, not using your powers during practice is the biggest mistake you can make. After all, in the field, you'll have to."

Jim narrowed his eyes at his best friend. _Since when did you become my instructor, Professor Kal?_ Kal opened his mouth to answer when James dashed forward, landing a solid side thrust kick on his midsection and knocking him onto his back several feet away.

The brown-haired kid coughed and wheezed on the ground for a few seconds before talking. "There-you got it. See? It's all about distraction." Kal coughed a few more times as he regained his footing and composure, tapping his temple a few times.

James looked around at the chrome walls of the Danger Room absentmindedly, his thoughts drifting as he lost interest in the fight.

"So," Kal interrupted, "you want to tell me the _real_ reason you've been training so hard? Because it isn't just to evaluate your skill level."

Jim looked at him. "Can't you read my mind," he asked sardonically, tapping his temple.

Kal rolled his eyes. "I try not to unless we're sparring."

"Cheat."

"Coward."

Jim narrowed his eyes and glared at his friend.

"I mean it. You say it's because it isn't the purpose of the exercise, but that's a lie. You're not using your powers because you're afraid of what you can do."

Jim snarled at him slightly.

"Go on. Tell me I'm wrong."

_Go to hell. I don't need or want you squirming around in my head._ He started to walk toward the exit, anger seething inside him. Suddenly there was a hand on his right shoulder. James acted instinctively, elbowing his best friend in the nose, feeling something move and hearing Kal yelp as he drew it back, but his rage overriding any trace of caring. He spun around, planting an uppercut in his gut and raining down punches on his torso. Kal threw his arms up in defense, but James kept battering him back, bruising his friend's arms and his own knuckles. He roared and thrust-kicked Kal back another few feet.

"You want me to use my powers?!"

James reached up to his visor and pulled it off, looking straight at a terrified Kal, who dove out of the way just in time. Jim's eyes looked at the wall behind a prone Kal, roaring, his eyes scanning up it and the beams coming from them tearing gashes in the silvery metal until he closed his eyes and put his visor back on. Still snarling, he looked at Kal, whose eyes were glued to the demolished wall.

"Happy now?" Jim spun on his heel and stormed out of the room, shoving past Beast, who was running toward the Danger Room's entrance to break up the fight when Jim walked out.

As he ascended the elevator to the mansion's main floor, James was completely numb with rage, a feeling that didn't fade until he found his month-old room and locked the door behind him. That's when the human feelings returned, and a gigantic wave of guilt and regret swept over him. He collapsed to his knees, head in his hands. _Damn it. What have I done? What am I doing? _Kal was right. He was so afraid of his power that whenever he did use it in combat, he cut loose completely. _I have no control._ He heard a knock on his door, and his eyes snapped to it. _No, I don't want any company right now. Can't let anyone see me like this._

_"James,"_ said a different voice in his head. _"James, open up. I just want to talk."_

_"Well _I_ don't," _he thought back. _"Please just go away, leave me alone."_

_"James, you have to stop shutting me out. Shutting _everyone _out."_

He leaned his back against his dresser, not moving to unlock the door.

_"James."_

"Go away!" he yelled at her. "Now is _not_ a good time to talk, Emma. Just...leave me be." He heard hurried footsteps that faded as they got progressively further away, groaning in misery.

_Kal was right,_ he repeated 'd warned James about pushing people away, and that's exactly what he was doing: refusing help, even though he _knew_ he needed it._ This has to stop. I have to stop._ He got up, sitting on his bed and letting his mind wander aimlessly for a few minutes. _I have to make this right._ He stood and unlocked the door, walking fast and arriving at the school building, looking for Kal, for Emma, for all the people he had unwittingly or intentionally slighted in his attempt to keep everything inside and just handle it himself.

"Hey," a female voice said from his right.

He turned to see one Jane Smith standing there, her brown-gold hair seeming to sparkle even in the indoor lighting. The girl had arrived at the Institute about a month ago, a mystery and enigma, especially since she was always so supportive of him despite not knowing him for that long. Between his relatively chipper attitude and her adorable level of shyness, they became friends almost instantly, and she became part of his study group not two weeks after their first meeting.

"Hey yourself," he shot back. "You seen Emma or Kal anywhere? I have to talk to them."

She shook her head slowly. "Nope, not since this morning. What do you need to talk about? Can I help?"

He looked at her and half-smiled. _Ever since we met, she's been asking me that question, like it's her job or something._

"Sorry, no. It's...something I can only do with them, I'm afraid. An apology, to be precise."

Her eyebrows rose.

"James Carter, apologizing." She smiled at the notion, and he smiled ruefully.

"Yeah, I'll admit, it's not my strongest suit...but it is necessary."

She nodded and turned toward an adjacent hallway. "Well, I hope you find them and make things right. I'd hate to see who you are without your two best friends."

He could almost see pain on her face when she said that, looking away and down, not meeting his eyes. Jim opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. _I've only known her for a fraction of the time I've known Kal and Emma, and yet I feel like we've been friends all my life. Jane has to know how much I care about her, doesn't she?_ The blank, almost mournful expression on her face said otherwise. _Then maybe I need to start here._

"Hey," he said, walking close to her as her eyes met his. He pulled her into a hug and held her close. "We're friends too, okay? Don't ever think that you're second best. Ever."

She smiled at him when he broke the embrace.

"I'll see ya later." He walked away and strode through the halls for a few more minutes before realizing where Kal would be, sprinting for the elevator and heading to the sub-basement. He ran through the halls, remembering the underground's layout and getting to the medical room, where he saw Dr. McCoy setting Kal's broken nose.

He felt his guilt like a punch in the gut and stood there, watching them, frozen in place as the full impact of what he had done hit him. Kal's bare forearms were black and blue in multiple places, there were bloody dressings in the trash can from Hank's attempt to stop the blood flow from his nose, and a body bandage wrapped around his bare chest. He leaned against the doorway of the room, numb to all feelings but his monumental regret. _How could I do that to _anyone_, much less my _best friend_? Yeah, some friend you are, Jim._

"Stop it," Kal said suddenly, causing Hank to start and look at him questioningly.

"I'm in the middle of the most delicate part of—"

"Not you," Kal responded apologetically, "him."

He motioned toward the door, and Hank looked to find Jim standing there, his head hung. Hank returned to the task at hand, putting the nose splint in place and wrapping it carefully

"Now, you'll want to keep from touching it at all," the doctor said. "These next few days are critical to the healing process."

Kal nodded. "Thanks. Now, can we have a moment alone?"

Hank looked at James dubiously.

"He's not gonna try anything again, trust me."

The doctor nodded and walked toward the doorway. James stepped out of his way and let him pass, not meeting his eyes. He moved back into the entrance, standing there awkwardly.

Kal rolled his eyes at him. "Oh, stop standing there like a moron and sit down."

Jim obeyed numbly, taking a seat six feet from him.

"You okay?"

James' eyes met his instantly. "I should be the one asking _you _that."

Kal shrugged. "It's nothing. Nothing compared to what _you're _feeling right now." They didn't speak for a few more seconds, and both opened their mouths at once, but Kal beat him to the punch. "I pushed you too hard."

Jim looked straight at him, not believing what he was hearing. "No push is hard enough to justify what I did."

"To the Danger Room," Kal asked with a smirk.

"No, genius, to you."

"I _know_, one-track." Kal shook his head slowly. "It's pointless beating yourself up about it. What's more, it's harmful. If you stay where you are right now, you will do _exactly_ what I told you not to. You'll be afraid of your powers, refuse to use them when it's necessary, and put yourself or someone else in danger. Stop apologizing for what you are and what you can do. Focus. Your emotions trigger your powers, so find a way to master them."

"I've been trying!" he shouted in exasperation. "Every day, I practice breathing exercises and meditate to try and stem the emotional currents that are _always _running through me nowadays. Tai Chi, Yoga, nothing has worked. I'm starting to think nothing will."

Kal laughed for a second before stopping due to the pain in his ribs. "Jim, you don't need a style or meditation to calm your emotions. You just need to overpower your fear and anxiety with something else. Something more constructive."

"Like what?"

"Like gratitude," a voice said from behind him. Professor Xavier wheeled toward his pupil from the hallway. "About thirty years ago, I lost control of my abilities. I had lost...nearly everything that mattered to me. It was a very tumultuous time, very emotionally trying. I couldn't control my telepathy at all. The voices were...overwhelming, as they were when I first discovered my mutation."

"What changed?" Jim asked.

He smiled in a fatherly way. "Gratitude. Every morning, I asked myself what I still had to be thankful for, and focused on it. Little by little, I was able to shut the voices out, one by one, and regain who I was. More than that, I saw who I could be if I decided right there and then never to wallow in self-pity again. I drove myself hard, focused on helping my students, on using the pain I had felt in the past and been feeling to empathize with them, help them find their way as I did. That is what I want to do with you. To help you find your center, your drive.

"Kal is right. You're afraid, and your abilities know it. They control you now, but it doesn't have to stay that way. If you can discover what truly motivates you, or, rather, rediscover it, and focus on that, then your fear will be lost in the course of your true purpose, whatever that may be."

Jim looked away, thinking, considering. "You're right," he said finally. "I do need to focus on something else, but I can't do it alone."

Charles smiled. "That, my dear boy, is why _I'm_ here."

...

Two months later

"Kal, get to cover!"

The six-foot teen nodded at the order and rushed toward the nearest rock formation. _This simulation is seriously getting on my nerves, _Jim thought as he fired a powerful blast of energy in the direction of the incoming fire. A twelve-foot humanoid drone had its head blown off, and its body hit the ground as Force touched his visor again, blowing the leg off another. A drone flew in and landed just ten feet behind him, the shockwave of the impact knocking him off his feet. Jim crawled backward several feet as the robot raised its right arm and brought it down toward him before he could reach his visor.

Kal slammed into it, airborne, knocking it to the ground with the power he'd taken from Cannonball.

"Go!" he shouted to Force, who nodded and sprinted further forward until a half-dozen drones landed in a line in front of him and raised their weapons.

_Gotta give the late Ivan Vanko credit, he sure made his drones persistent._ Force triggered his visor at maximum power and swept his eyebeams over all six, knocking them backward ten feet. _If not terribly smart._ Force kept running, reaching Iceman's ice-wall as another salvo of bullets slammed into it, prompting Bobby to reinforce the wall again.

"How are we doing?" Jim asked him.

"Not great," Iceman responded. "Magma and Cannonball have already gone down. Cyclops and Jean are fighting their way through a squadron off that way." He pointed to the right of the wall. "Beast, Storm, and Emma are holding out okay in the center, but I don't think they're gonna last that long. I saw about a dozen of those things heading for them about a minute ago. Where's Rogue?"

"Last I saw, trapped between a rock and a hard place, but if I know Kal, he'll have his girlfriend free in no time."

Iceman nodded and turned his attention back to the front, looking through the semi-transparent wall of ice to see a Marine drone touch down and ready its shoulder cannon.

"Don't think that wall's gonna hold!"

Iceman took Force's arm and yanked him toward an upward-sloping rock, running up it and jumping off with Jim. He projected a stream of ice below them, sliding across the battlefield toward the enemy, one hand continuing their path while the other froze the Marine drone's main cannon and head. Force raised his hand to his visor and blasted the drone's frozen section, shattering its head and cannon. Two Air Force drones swept in from the air behind them, leveling their altitude with Iceman and Force to target the two X-Men.

"Keep us moving!" Jim shouted to Iceman as his hand reached his visor and fired at one of them.

They dodged the beam and broke off, readjusting to launch missiles at the ice slide. Force fired twice, blasting the missiles out of the sky and looking back at their sources, keeping up the pressure as they steadily approached the arena's center.

"Iceman, dive!"

Bobby obeyed, the slide sloping almost straight down ten feet and causing them to fall out of the range of a ballistic salvo from the two drones.

"Turn us around!"

Iceman did so, blasting one of the drones' propulsion systems with ice and causing its flight pattern to turn erratic. Force blasted its center mass, putting a foot-wide hole through the bot as the other opened fire, perforating the ice slide behind them and causing them to fall toward the ground. Iceman readjusted and started a new one, arcing them back toward the center as Force gave the other drone a blast to the arm. Finally, the three X-Men in the center became visible, Emma's diamond form leaping to the side of a charging bot and hand delivering a knife-handed strike to its vulnerable leg hydraulics, forcing it down on one knee as Beast leapt for its head, ripping it clean off.

Storm summoned a tornado to throw off two missiles launched at her partners, redirecting them into the line of drones charging them from behind. Two lightning bolts lanced through the nearest offenders, overloading their power cores and causing them to explode. An Air Force drone flew at her from behind, ballistics flying as she rose rapidly into the air, the gale-force wind beneath her jetting her out of its line of fire. A crimson blast took its arm off as Cyclops and Jean joined the fray, the latter levitating both herself and Cyclops, setting him down with Emma and Beast so she could remain airborne.

Force and Iceman also reached the center as he heard a crack from his left, indicating a fast mover inbound. It was Kal, who had, as expected, retrieved Rogue and was using Cannonball's power to reach the rest of the team. They landed as Iceman and Force started laying into the enemy, the former freezing a target before the latter blasted it to pieces.

"Where do you need us, sir?" Kal asked Cyclops, who was in the middle of countermeasure duty for Jean.

"See those drones in the distance?" the leader asked Kal, pointing in the direction he and Jean had just come from.

Kal nodded.

"Once they get in range, they'll lay heavy artillery down on this location, and none of us will be able to stop it. You need to take them out before that happens."

"I'll go with him," Force said. "He'll need the extra firepower to stop that many."

Cyclops nodded, and Kal walked behind his friend, looping his arms around his chest for support.

"You might want to clench up a bit," he said, and Jim did, preparing him for the jolting acceleration that Kal caused as they rose into the air and rocketed toward the line of artillery drones. "Let 'em have it!" he yelled as they got within 50 meters of the steadily advancing firing line.

Force cut loose, taking his visor off and blasting the line of bots, shattering their metal bodies with the sheer force of his eyebeams. A few minutes after they returned to the team, it was over.

"An exemplary job, all of you," a voice said over the Danger Room's intercom as the room's rocky terrain vanished and it returned to its normal chrome appearance.

The exit opened, revealing Magma and Cannonball at the other end, disappointed at themselves but glad at the team's success.

"Hey, Sam," Kal said, "your powers sure came in handy. Thanks."

"Well," Cannonball responded, "you're the one who has to go through pain every time you swap out, so."

Jim looked at him sideways, then at Kal. _He never told me that. _He'd always assumed it just took an immense amount of concentration for him to use his secondary mutation, not pain._ That explains why he winces a little every time he touches Rogue. It's not because it takes time for him to replicate her ability and make him immune to it, it's because his power of replication hurts him whenever he uses it. Why didn't he tell me?_

"Thanks anyway." Kal looked at Jim and fist-bumped him, smiling.

_I've gotta ask him about that._ Emma strode over to James and nudged his shoulder.

"You were incredible out there," she said.

He smiled and turned slightly red. "Thanks, but I owe it all to my incredible teachers." He glanced alternatively at Cyclops, Emma, and…

"Yeah yeah, kid," a rough voice said from the exit. "Don't get all sentimental on me, it'll make me cry." Logan stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a sarcastic grin on his face.

"Whatever, man," Jim responded, smiling and walking out of the room toward the elevator, and then cafeteria, where he saw Jane smiling at him from a far table. Smiling back, he strode over and took a seat, followed by Kal, Rogue, and Bobby. Despite the fact that it was made with whatever their resident Cajun cook usually ladled into things, that lunch seemed far better than one he had had in a while.

Here, surrounded by friends and allies, I finally felt if he _was_ stuck behind those glasses for the rest of his life, he had no regrets._ The X-Men are my future now. This is what I was born to do._

...

Later that day

Jane Smith brushed her hair back from her face, locking the door of her dorm's bathroom as she freshened up. Putting her ear to the door, she listened for sounds from without, any signs that she might be overheard, then pulled a phone from her pocket and dialed the number she most frequently called. The other end rang a few times before the call's recipient finally picked up.

"Yes?" she asked.

"It's me," Jane responded. "Did you get my latest report?"

"I have it in front of me. So, you say he's been targeted for some reason. Care to explain?"

"Not even the X-Men know why, or by whom. James was very open about explaining that fact. He trusts me."

"Good. Does anyone suspect you?"

Jane turned to the mirror, her skin tone, eyes, and hair changing to show the face and body of Nalya Darkholme. "No, Mother. If they do, they aren't showing it, and James won't let them lay a hand on me. He's loyal like that." A pause came from the other end.

"It almost sounds like you're beginning to admire him. Just don't forget why you're really there."

Nalya gulped. "Yes, Mother."

"You've done well, my dear. Keep me posted on him, and the movements of the X-Men, if you can. Don't risk exposure unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Yes, Mother."

"I'll speak to you later. Mystique out."

The line went dead, and Nalya put the phone away in her pocket, deleting the call from her cell burner's history. She shifted back to Jane Smith before unlocking the door and leaving her room. As she shut the door behind her, a mirthful, teasing voice from behind startled her.

"Hey, Janey," it said.

She turned around to see James smiling at her.

"You hidin' from me?"

Her mouth dropped, then closed as she gave him an offended look.

"When I couldn't find you, I thought for a second that you might be too scared to face me on the squash court." He gave her a smug, toothy grin.

She narrowed her eyes at him and got up in his face.

"You're on, Shades." He chuckled and started sprinting toward the stairs leading to the ground floor.

"Last one there is a big fat porkchoooop!"

She rolled her eyes and ran after him. "You're so lame, you frigging cheater!"

His laughter was music to her ears, and she found herself smiling despite herself. _I can't believe how wrong I was about him,_ she thought. _Mother doesn't know just how...pure he is. She thinks all the X-Men are sanctimonious fools, but being here, seeing who they really are... _Mystique had been right about one thing. Living among the enemy tends to change one's perspective. _I need to be careful just how involved I get with them...and with him._ She grinned._ For tonight, though, I'm having fun._

Pushing away all those uncomfortable feelings of apprehension and doubt, Nalya caught up to James, mostly because he intentionally slowed down, and together they reached the squash court at the exact same time. As they faced off, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she knew she had already let him in too far not to care, and tried desperately not to think of the day when he would find out who she really was…and she would be forced to choose between him and the Brotherhood.


End file.
